


These Dreams (I don't want to remember)

by Miramise



Series: I Get By with a Little Help from My Friends [10]
Category: Biohazard | Resident Evil (Gameverse), Resident Evil - All Media Types
Genre: Angst, Angst with a Hopeful Ending, F/F, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Mental Anguish, Nightmares, OC death, Post RE6, no beta we die like men, seriously miniscule, very minor OCs - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-25
Updated: 2019-11-25
Packaged: 2021-02-26 03:27:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 23,532
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21556999
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Miramise/pseuds/Miramise
Summary: Nightmare or forgotten memory?  Leon doesn't know and isn't sure he wants to.  Helena does but thought it better to keep silent.  A tragedy from Tall Oaks nearly costs the agent his life, and Leon is forced to face yet another wound left on his soul.  But Chris refuses to stand idly by and let him be consumed by his guilt.
Relationships: Helena Harper/Claire Redfield, Leon S. Kennedy/Chris Redfield
Series: I Get By with a Little Help from My Friends [10]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1403842
Comments: 16
Kudos: 61





	1. shatter

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This felt like it took forever to write. I am very unsure of the quality, there are probably mistakes all over the place, but I _really_ wanted to write it. It might seem like a lot of OCs, but most of them are just to move the story along. If any words look odd or unintelligible, trust me, they're not. I feel like I should say more but honestly don't have a clue. Oh well, brace for 'feels'...

  
~~~ night fractures ~~~

_"Please don't..."_

He doesn't want to do this.

_"I don't want..."_

He absolutely does not want to do this.

_"don't... shoot"_

Why? Why is he doing this?

_"I want... Please don't... shoot..."_

It's in his hand. The gun is heavy. He can feel the trigger.

_"...don't ...shoot"_

No please he doesn't want to do this.

_**He doesn't want to do this!** _

_"...don't ...shoot me..."_

_**NO!** _

~~~

Reality crashed down. The dream fractured under the weight.

Leon jolted up, chest heaving, skin damp with sweat. He struggled to get his breathing back to normal.

_'Nightmare. Just a nightmare.'_

He couldn't quite make himself believe that, though that's all Leon had to go on.

_'Just a bad dream. Not real. Not real.'_

It wouldn't be the first time his mind took the hellish memories stored there to create something even worse to screw him over with. The blond was quite intimate in the many ways his dream could further distort reality whenever he tried to get some sleep.

Yet they hadn't been this bad, nor this frequent, in a long time.

_'A nightmare... for the third night in a row.'_

Leon tossed his covers off and rolled up to sit on the side of the bed. Five different days of being woken up by the same dream, the last three back-to-back. It was becoming as bad as his days just after Raccoon City. And after getting tossed into "service", it had taken Leon years and lots of government-paid, security-cleared therapy before he was able to have a somewhat normal sleep pattern.

' _So am I getting fubar'd now?_ '

No answers. He had no answers because Leon didn't have a clue on what the questions should be.

"...god-dammit, what the fuck is it now?"

He wondered for the Nth time what sin he committed for the pattern that's become his life. Every time he feels himself on solid ground, be it work or social life, something came along to knock him flat on his back.

Annoying, to say the least.

Unfortunately, whatever the problem was _this_ time, it couldn't be pinned to the usual virus makers and sellers. No, Leon's own mind was the culprit. Which meant shooting it was not a viable solution. If he so much as implied it _could_ be, the agent knew he'd have someone babysitting him for the rest of his days. Thanks, but no. Besides, for one of the few times he's experienced, Leon felt he could enjoy life. He had a family, of sorts. He had a romantic partner he could trust. Work, well that was always hell, but lately it did feel like they were making a dent in removing the people who kept making and peddling viruses. Aside from that, Leon had very few complaints.

So naturally his brain decided now was a good time to turn against him and robs him of some much-needed sleep.

Groaning, the blond stood up after glancing at the clock.

3:27am

It was official, the universe hated Leon Kennedy. This was not a time to be awake unless he was on a mission, which he absolutely was not. Okay, maybe the universe didn't hate him, but just really disliked him.

At least Chris wasn't here. He didn't want to worry his lover any more than necessary, and Chris would definitely be worried. Nor did Leon want the therapy argument again. He went often enough as it was, Leon did not want to go any more than that.

But it might not be a bad idea to consider. The blond knew he couldn't keep going like this. The lack of sleep was going to affect his work, worse so if and when he took a mission.

A dry, flat chuckle rasped against his throat. It was _never_ an if, but _when_ he'd take a mission. His life consisted of nothing but missions ever since Raccoon City. He blamed Umbrella for the most part and the government douches who blackmailed him for the rest. Thanks to that corporation and their starting this madness, only two outcomes seemed to occur to anyone unfortunate enough to be swallowed by the miasma. You died, or you were forced into a position to try and stop them, no matter the personal cost or if you even wanted to fight in the first place.

Leon _did_ want to stop them, but on his terms. Being forced into his job as a special agent, then with the DSO, would have never been his choice if he'd had one to begin with.

Growling, the blond stood from his bed. Just coming off a nightmare most likely was causing his mood to sour. He'd call someone, but it was too late to wake someone at home, and the ones on a mission were too busy. He didn't want to bother anyone just because his brain was being a bitch. Still, he needed to do something to calm his nerves, and there was only one remedy he could think of with Chris gone.

A silent apology echoed in his thoughts as Leon searched in the back of his closet. He blessed his boyfriend's smart-but-dumb nature as he pulled out a book with a leather strap keeping it closed. Leon said it was an heirloom that he didn't want to open too often, and Chris believed him.

Heirloom indeed.

Well, that much was true. His mom said it was passed down from his great-grandmother, who he was told used it for the same reason. Leon gave a sardonic smile as he opened the book to reveal the hidden space in the pages, currently housing a nice bottle of scotch.

He thought his great-grandma would be happy knowing it was still in use.

Leon closed the book and went into the living room after a detour to get a shot glass from the kitchen. He poured a shot, knocking it back with familiarity at the smooth burn sliding down his throat. Leon poured another and sits on the couch. This shot he only sipped as he turned on the TV, hoping to find some mindless drivel to possibly let him drift off to. He had to stop when he saw an animation channel marathoning a bunch of 80s cartoons and chuckled when seeing it's Jem currently on.

 _'Maybe one day I'll show them the picture of me when I dressed as her for Halloween.'_ After a moment's thought, Leon shook that impulse clear out of his head. _'No way, not those loons. They'll never let it go if I did.'_ Still, Leon was happy his mother not only agreed with his choice but helped make the costume.

If her son wanted to go as a Hologram, Mama Kennedy made sure he'd be the prettiest one there was.

Fortunately for Leon's sanity, said picture was hidden so well not even Ada could find it if she knew of its existence. And _if_ she somehow managed to find that, Leon was certain he'd finally have a good reason to shoot the mercenary.

The agent put any further thoughts of past antics on the back burner and leaned back to binge on bad 80s cartoons and drink his scotch. An hour later and he felt sleepy enough to try laying down again, despite knowing he'll have to be up in three hours. It's still better than nothing.

Leon put his scotch away in the book and climbed back into bed, praying to whatever divinity might give a damn that he doesn't dream any more that night.

  
~~~ day job ~~~

"You don't look so hot. And considering it's you, that's saying something."

Leon wasn't sure _what_ to make of Helena's comment. But the brunette was constantly confusing him with her logic, so it wasn't a new feeling.

"And how should I take that, Harper?"

Helena shrugged one shoulder. "You have come in here with a stuffy nose, fever, glassy-eyed, and hair not perfect, and _even then_ I heard the other single agents saying they'd bone you in a heartbeat. You have been near death and still looked hot. Which by the way, all the straight men and lesbians hate you for, and everyone else just wants either your number or your secrets. Don't worry, I've been lying on both counts."

"Thanks... or whatever." It was more a grunt than anything, but the most Leon could manage with the little sleep he had. Time to pull out the big guns.

The younger agent didn't think much of it when Leon pulled out one of his emergency energy drinks from his desk. She was a little suspicious when he grabbed a second. And she made a face that exemplified the meaning of disgust when he proceeded to grab a cup of the swamp water tar someone in the office decided was suitable for consumption under the erroneous label of "coffee".

Then, an absolute travesty of nature occurred.

Leon grabbed his special thermos, the one that Helena joked could hold an entire bottle of scotch. (The office as a whole had tried. It did.) He poured all of the tar in, then both energy drinks, and capped it off with a vitamin he crushed between his fingers and sprinkled in like some untenable topping. He closed it all up, gave it a few hearty shakes, then opened the sin against man and slugged back at least half before coming up for air.

This was how Leon S. Kennedy was going to die, Helena was sure of it. Not by zombie or G-monster or Plagas, but a poison of his own making that defied God itself.

"What in the _world_ did you just create and put into your body?!" It was terrible, period. There could be no other description that came close in a single word. Just terrible, and Helena had watched her sometimes partner ingest it.

She quickly silenced the tiny part of her brain wondering if she could do the same for those late-night missions. She wanted to live, thank you very much.

"Not anything healthy," Leon admitted. Not that he was in a position to say otherwise. "But it helps when sleep is only wishful thinking, usually for those ops that feel like they'll never end."

All well and good, but Helena knew the blond hadn't been on an assignment like that in a while and said as much. Leon could only shrug.

"Other things can keep a person awake, Harper."

The use of her last name made Helena winced. That was a clear indication that the subject was not open for discussion. Fortunately, she'd been getting lessons from Claire on how to ignore that, especially when it was for the other person's own good. And anything that would drive Leon to mix up that foul beast of a liquid and drink it could not be good.

The thought of Claire reminded Helena of the rest of their group, specifically the one currently not in the country.

"Seriously, are you missing Chris that much?" Helena couldn't decipher the look that earned, but she felt reasonably confident that was a large part of it. It wasn't a surprise the more the brunette thought about it. It happened to all of them when their partners were away for too long. The nightmares that usually stayed away would slowly creep in again, and the anchor they'd come to depend on was sadly absent.

This occurred more often than any of them liked, but it was the life they had to lead.

"He'll be back soon, you know. No need to try and put a liquid demon into your body."

"There is if I want to stay awake and get some work done," Leon argued.

"While normally I'd agree, sleep is also important, and you are severely lacking." Helena folded her arms over her chest. "Look, I can handle your paperwork. We switch off all the time when one of us just needs a break, and you did mine last week. Let me take yours for today and you go home and get some sleep."

Leon wished it were as simple as Helena made it sound. He wished it was only him missing Chris when the captain was out of the country. Just wanting the brunet close to keep the usual night terrors away. But it wasn't the usual, and he knew this.

_'Crap, she's right about Chris coming back. I can't hide this from him, either. But I don't know why I'm having these dreams to begin with.'_

Now Leon had a _new_ set of problems to deal with. And while it wasn't her fault, he didn't bother hiding the small glare he shot at Helena.

"Don't look at me like that," she countered. "You know better than I do what happens when we lose too much sleep."

"I haven't lost that much yet," he tried to argue, but Helena cut him off.

"Then why does it look like the aftermath of Redfield punching you in both eyes after the swelling has gone down?" An exaggeration, but not by much from what Helena could see. "You need sleep."

And Leon would agree with her if he could actually _get_ any. He's about to say as much when a voice cuts through the office.

"Leon, Helena, you have an assignment. It's urgent." Hunnigan's tone was crisp and professional as always.

Both agents groaned like teens being told to do their chores. "When are they not urgent?" Leon wanted to know. Helena shrugged; most times even the low-level missions somehow turned into a real mess before they were through.

"Let's see what they're throwing us into now. Maybe if we're lucky, we can get back in time for dinner," Helena suggested with a hope neither of them felt.

"I'll be happy if I can get breakfast _tomorrow_." Leon sighed and rose from his chair before gesturing for Helena to go ahead. Together the pair made their way to Hunnigan's office, who appeared to be juggling three things at once without missing a beat.

"Straight from the top, you two." She handed over a folder. "There are rumours of a group researching the G virus in an attempt to make it more stable. Though I say rumours, I'm afraid it sounds closer to being true than any of us would like. We need the two of you to investigate the validity of these claims."

"I hope to hell and back they're _just_ rumours this time," Helena sighed. Beside her, Leon only nodded as he went over the contents of the folder.

Hunnigan continued, "I can say that if the rumours prove true, that the group has only reached the planning stage, and haven't gotten a working sample of G just yet. In which case, you're tasked with shutting them down before they get that far."

"A mission where we _don't_ have to deal with an on-site virus? It's practically a vacation," Leon huffed. "It isn't clear who might be funding this, though."

"We don't know," the handler told them. "The first priority is making sure this group never gets off the ground."

"Definitely." Leon handed the folder back to Hunnigan, then glanced over at Helena while tilting his head towards the door. "Let's go. If we're lucky, maybe we _can_ be done for dinner."

"You got it." The two agents left the office, stopping off the grab the necessary gear from requisitions. "Hey, are you going to be okay? You haven't been sleeping right—"

"I'll be fine." Leon checked his ammo. "This honestly doesn't sound that serious. At best a few scientists with god complexes got some hired muscle for protection. I'll take them over infected any day of the week. Besides," he pointed out as he holstered his guns, "I've _dealt_ with infected on a lot less sleep. Not like you can catch a nap when you got a horde on the other side wanting to make you their midnight snack."

"Eh, true enough." Though still concerned, Helena let it be. Leon had done more of these missions than she had; she felt he would know his limits better than she would. She hoped so, at least.

"You ready?" At Helena's nod, Leon slammed the last clip into his preferred gun. "Let's go."

The two headed out, both silently wishing this would be as quick as it sounded on paper.

~~~

The mission was quick. A very quick failure.

"We managed to apprehend all the guards and most of the scientists," Leon reported. "The guards are just hired mercs, really. No idea what's going on. It's possible they were going to be used as test subjects once the group obtained a sample of G."

The president hmm'ed softly. Hunnigan stood just to the side, appearing slightly frazzled at what hadn't been said yet.

"You said you caught _most_ of the scientists?" The president asked. "What happened?"

"That was my fault, sir," the older agent replied. "One of the scientists managed to escape. I accept full responsibility for that."

"Now hold on a minute!" Helena stepped forward, not caring that she was addressing the president. "The intel we got was incomplete. There was a _lot_ more resistance than we were led to believe, A hell of a lot more... sir," she added, remembering that she _was_ talking to her _boss_ , president or no.

The president looked at her, then back to Leon. "Is this true?" he asked, though the leader thought as much already.

"I'm afraid Agent Harper is correct." Leon took a slow breath before continuing. "The scientists had hired more guards than previously reported. We were outnumbered, and I barely caught sight of a guard with a gun trained on Agent Harper. He was in her blind spot, and I had moved out of that position while engaging with other members of their security. I had to move quickly to take him down before he injured Agent Harper. Unfortunately, I lost track of the last scientist as a result, allowing him to escape."

"Hmm, a loss, but not an unacceptable one, given the faulty intel," the president offered. "You did apprehend the other scientists and removed or captured most of their security. I'll have other agents try to get a lead of the last one. He's either gone to ground or is trying to make contact with another group to continue his work."

Hunnigan stepped forward, a file on the president's desk. "I believe the one we lost is Hendrick Voll. We have agents on-call ready to start the search, sir," Hunnigan informed him. "While I think agents Kennedy and Harper are the best ones for bringing him in, it may be some time before we have a lead again. It would allow the two some rest after the fallout of this mission."

"Good idea. Also, we need to see to the faulty intel. I don't want to send more agents into a situation they're ill-equipped for." The president began skimming over the documents file. "For now, Agent Kennedy, you and Agent Harper are dismissed. Go ahead and give Hunnigan your written reports, then take the rest of the day and tomorrow off. Hopefully we can afford you that much time, though we may have to call you in early if we get a lead on Voll."

"Of course, sir." Not like any of them had a choice. And not even the president could be promised a decent night's sleep when dealing with potential B.O.W. viruses. None of them wanted another Raccoon City or Tall Oaks.

The president continued, "I'm also stating this now as an official mission parameter. While it's preferred to apprehend Voll, you are authorised first and foremost to make sure he does not get the opportunity to sell or continue his research. Use whatever force is necessary to ensure that won't happen." Silence filled the room; the unspoken words plain to everyone there.

Take Voll in, _dead or alive_.

They could appreciate the inclusion parameter. One scientist's life, no matter what knowledge he had on a virus, wasn't worth risking a mass infection. Plus it made the agents' job easier. While having Voll alive would be good, this way they weren't limited in the amount of 'force' they could use to stop him.

After a moment, Leon tilted his head in acknowledgment of the order. "Understood, sir."

"Good. The priority is stopping Voll. We're counting on you, agents. For now, dismissed."

Leon made a slight gesture to Helena, who followed the blond out. Once the door closed, they both let out a sigh of relief. Helena grinned as they started walking again.

"That went better than expected."

"Yeah. I don't know this president like I did... well, he seems decent." Leon instinctively pushed back thoughts of the former president. Though his guilt had started to wane, he still missed the older man's friendship.

"It really was shitty intel." Helena guessed what Leon meant and opted to steer away from that topic. "Pretty sure if it had been anyone else, they wouldn't have gotten out as good as we did."

The blond winced. "You almost didn't," he pointed out, "and it would have been on me."

"But I did, and that was because of you, so don't beat yourself up about it."

"Still—"

"Leon, Helena."

The pair turned around to see Hunnigan walking towards them. They waited until she was close before continuing their way back to their own workplace.

"Hunnigan, I—" Leon was cut off by a quick motion from the handler.

"Don't worry. He agrees it was on the fault of whoever collected the intel, so you two are off the hook." She quirked a smile towards Helena. "He thought your commentary and defense of Leon funny."

"Yeah, well, wasn't going to let Mr. Martyr here take the blame for that one."

A light scowl twisted the corner of Leon's mouth. "Excuse me for taking responsibility."

"It wasn't yours to begin with," Helena argued. They both quieted down from Hunnigan's sharp cough.

"In any case," she said, "you can hand in those reports later." She turned, unnerving Leon with her intense scrutiny. "You especially. I don't like those dark circles I'm seeing. Go home and get some rest, Leon."

He didn't get the chance to reply when Helena nodded in agreement. "I can take him home to make sure he doesn't sneak off looking for our escaped mad scientist by himself."

"Good idea. I'd say sit on him if you have to, but usually just getting him back home is good enough."

Leon sniffed, clearly offended. Neither Helena nor Hunnigan told the blond it looked like he was pouting.

"I'm feeling so attacked right now," he complained. "And what about Voll? He's still on the loose. We have to—"

Hunnigan was quick to cut him off. "He will be found. We have the others, and there's also the research data you managed to recover and destroy access to. He doesn't have a lot of resources available, so it's only a matter of time." The handler tapped her foot sharply against the floor. "Honestly, you did a fantastic job considering the bad info you had. Go home and let us do our part. You don't have to do it all yourself, you know."

The protest caught in his throat, but the looks from both agent and handler had Leon deflating. " _Fine_. I'll go, but you have to let me know soon as you get _anything_."

"She will, she will. Jeeze, for someone who complains about getting called in, I'd think you'd want to be the first to leave." Helena started pushing Leon away from Hunnigan and towards the exit. "C'mon, let's just go already. Pretty sure there's a bed waiting for you at your place."

A grunt was all Helena got. She rolled her eyes and continued steering Leon towards her car, waving a hand in the air as Hunnigan called out a quick 'Later.' as they left. From the lack of push-back, Helena could tell Leon wasn't fighting her much, which in itself worried the brunet. When they reached her car, Leon stopped resisting and just shuffled into the passenger's side without a sound. Helena was in the driver's side not a minute later, her concern clear on her face.

"You know I'll totally do it," she blurted out, apropos of nothing and earning a confused glance from Leon.

"You'll do _what_?" Because statements like that from anyone in their inner circle had a tendency to send shivers down the blond's spine, and usually ended in a trip to either the hospital or the police station. Neither was good for his mental health at the moment.

"What Hunnigan said." Helena started the car and neatly tore out of the parking lot, speed limits ignored. "I will sit on you if necessary."

"I'd like to not only get that image out of my head but also point out the hypocrisy to your driving right now," came a reply crafted with mastered aplomb.

"Hypocrisy acknowledged. I'll let Claire spank me later, the not-fun kind." That she said it herself told Leon that Helena was serious, which he appreciated. "Doesn't change the fact that I will sit on you if I have to."

"You don't!" he was quick to interject. "Seriously, you do _not_. Just..." a sigh heaved itself from deep inside, painted with a weariness Leon hadn't felt since Spain. "Just get me home in one piece."

"Dinner first." Helena didn't need to turn her head to feel the incredulous look aimed her way. " _Yes_ I want food, dammit. Specifically, a decent burger. What do you think, BGR?"

"...fuck no. Z-Burger or I'll get out of this car right now, I swear on Aunt Mildred I will."

"Do you even _have_ an aunt Mildred?"

Leon shrugged. "I didn't say it was _my_ Aunt Mildred."

"Wow, rude." Helena snorted on a half-laugh. "Poor someone's Aunt Milly-Mildred."

"She'll be fine, so long as I get a chocolate amaretto shake with my burger."

"One chocolate amaretto coming up." Helena studiously ignored certain signs and stepped on the gas, the car zipping down the street.

"For fuck's sake, Harper, quit ignoring the speed limit!"

~~~

"Hey, no jokes. Are you okay?"

The two were in Leon's living room after a successful raid on Z-Burger. Normally they'd avoid indulging in as much as they did, but both agents were still coming off the frustration of the botched mission and had a clearly defined "fuck it" attitude at the moment. A food coma appealed to the pair, and they let loose the reins of self-control.

An hour later, numerous wrappers and empty cups were the only remaining evidence of a fast-food binge worthy of Jake when he decided it was a good time to hit the bong, which happened a little too often far as the blond was concerned.

It was Leon's goal in life to forgot that Sherry had been the one to introduce Jake to recreational marijuana, and not the other way around.

Selective memories and food comas would have to wait because Helena's question brought Leon's recent problems back into sharp focus. For a moment he felt the urge to sass about the definition of okay, but couldn't find the energy to do so. Besides, Helena had said 'no jokes'. He sighed, trying to cling to the last memories of a cheeseburger with mango mayo and a chocolate amaretto shake. But Leon knew from the expression on her face that Helena wouldn't just let it go. And maybe getting some of it off his chest would help.

"I've been better," he mumbled. "Been having nightmares for the last couple of days or so." He waved a hand around, aimless and lethargic. "Nightmares come with the job, though. You know that better than most."

Helena's eyes darkened. "I do," she agreed, and Leon wondered who she was seeing behind that troubled gaze. A sister lost? Monsters? Hell on earth? "And yeah, I've lost sleep to them more than a few nights. If it goes past three nights, I call someone and just kind of do the word vomit thing."

"Does it help?"

"More times than not, yeah." The brunette slurped on a cup, surprising Leon that there was still anything left. "You tell Chris about yours, don't you? Oh, but he's... what do you do when he's not around?" she asked. For the life of her, Helena couldn't recall Leon talking much about his night terrors, despite being a ready ear for any of the others. She assumed he talked to Chris, but the captain was out of the country with no set date for his return.

Little wonder Leon might have trouble sleeping if his usual outlet was gone.

"They're not as bad as you think," Leon replies instead. "Usually I do some binge-watching and just tire myself back to sleep. Just lately they've been slightly worse than usual, is all."

Well that did and yet didn't quite answer Helena's question, but she knew without any help that she didn't have a chance in hell of getting more info whenever Leon decided to stonewall her. She set that one aside for now and instead asked, "What are the dreams about?" She could feel her frustration mounting when Leon just waved a hand dismissively in the air.

"Par for course. Things trying to eat me, decomposition, gummy worms on steroids—"

"Wait, what?"

"—the usual shit," Leon finished, ignoring the interruption. "Sometimes they're just worse than others, but nothing new. Pretty sure I'll be back to a semi-regular sleep schedule in a couple of days," he added. His tone did a good job of indicating the topic was shut down. Helena stared at him for several seconds, then noisily huffed out a breath.

"Fine, whatever. Don't have to talk about them if you don't want to." And she could tell he didn't, though Helena couldn't understand why. Then again, Claire had warned her how the mind of one Leon S. Kennedy was a complex thing to decipher. Most either failed, or in one case, just used what she knew to play him like a cheap violin while ignoring anything she couldn't manipulate. The young agent didn't bother asking for a name; none of the group were too fond of Ada, nor of her treatment of Leon.

"Fine," she repeated, though softer and with heavy notes of resignation. "But at least, if you get another one, call me. Doesn't matter what time, call me. I'll be over with a bag of little chocolate donuts and a two-liter of Mountain Dew."

Leon frowned at that. "Really, Helena—"

"And before you say I don't have to, I already know that. I'm doing it because I _want_ to."

"...I was _going_ to say that you don't mix Dew with little chocolate donuts." Leon's voice was all shades of disapproving, though the light smirk betrayed his humour. "Everyone knows you pair chocolate donuts with Yoohoo. It's the unwritten rule."

The brunette groaned, her words laden with sarcasm and exasperation. "Yes, obviously. I should've known that already. Absolute height of culinary gourmet, that." Realising the possible landmine she stepped on had Helena quickly stabbing a finger in Leon's direction. "No comments from the peanut gallery about my admittedly lacking skills in the kitchen."

"I have _no_ idea what you're talking about." Leon obnoxiously feigned a cough. "Anyway, yes, you don't have to, but I doubt if I could stop you, either. Still, I don't want Claire mad at me if I take you up on this and wind up interrupting you two." He arched a brow at the snort from the younger agent. "What?"

"You should know Claire better than that. Soon as your name comes up on the ID, she'll be in the car, honking for me to hurry up."

The funny thing about that for Leon was knowing that wasn't just hyperbole. He still remembered calling late once to ask Helena if a store was still open, explaining he needed to get himself some painkillers for a migraine he could feel coming on. He'd barely gotten dressed when Claire was knocking on his door, meds in hand and every home remedy she knew in her arsenal. It was comforting, if mildly disturbing.

"All the more reason for me to be wary about calling." Leon held up a hand before Helena could protest. "But if I get a bad one, I know who to call."

Helena didn't miss the wording he used but decided it would be enough for now. "Fine. Try and get some sleep for now, then. I'm sure Hunnigan will call us if something pops up, whether we want it or not." She stood up, motioning for Leon to stay seated. "I can see myself out. You. Sleep. I mean it."

"Yes, Aunt Mildred." He chuckled when Helena bounced a crumpled wrapper off his head. "See you tomorrow."

"If you have to, but feel free to sleep in." Helena left with a wave, locking the door behind her. Leon sighed and let his good humour slide away. He knew he wouldn't be able to just drop off any time soon and thought watching some TV might help. He gathered the trash and tossed it in the bin, then grabbed the remote as he lounged on his couch. He found a channel playing Princess Bride and decided that would be perfect to drift to for a couple of hours.

  
~~~ night haze ~~~

Tall Oaks Cathedral. It can't be anything else. It's etched too deeply in his mind for him not to recognise it.

The monster he helped free; the chaos that follows.

If he could take this back, he would.

Dead. The monster. Most of the survivors. Dead. He feels guilty; how can he not? But once a person is truly infected, they're no longer a person. And that... he'll never forgive all the virus peddlers for that. It was basically desecrating their corpses. He may be responsible for what happened here, but the ones who make all these viruses—

_"Please don't..."_

That voice. Did someone survive?

_"Please, I don't want to..."_

No. No no no no. It's fine it's fine it's fine.

_"I don't want to..."_

No, nothing's wrong. There's a survivor.

His hand is heavy. The gun is heavy. How is he able to lift it?

 _"Please... I don't... want to..."_ rehllikotevahuoy

They're alive. They're alive. There's no reason.

No no no they don't want to.

 _She_ doesn't want to.

There's no reason.

 _"Please, don't..."_ eidotsahehs

God has abandoned them in this defiled house. All the evils they allowed in now pressing down

crushing

No please he doesn't want to do this.

 _"...don't ...shoot me..."_ reggirtehtllup

nonononono not this anything but this nononono

rehllikotevahuoy  
rehllikotevahuoy  
rehllikotevahuoy

_"I don't want to die..."_

eidotsahehs

_She doesn't have to die!_

erif

_**NO!** _

~~~

He shot up from the bed, sheets tangled in his legs as he fell over the side. He landed hard on his left, could feel a potential bruise forming.

Didn't matter.

Leon's throat clenched, nausea bubbling up.

step step fall step topple crawl step

He stumbled into the bathroom, barely reaching the toilet as his stomach heaved up everything he'd eaten before.

Gagging sounds interspersed with choked pleas to any divinity still bothering to listen. Broken sobs cut off with each cramp in his stomach rejecting everything it contained. His head throbbed so much he wondered why it hadn't exploded yet. Desperate mewls between each surge from his throat. And in the middle of it all, frail, whimpered apologies to a ghost he couldn't even remember.

It felt like an eternity before his stomach finally calmed down, or perhaps just lacked anything to further expel. It still cramped under his hand. Leon slid away and curled up on the tiled floor, arms folded around his middle while trying to ride out the pain.

"I'm sorry... Oh god, I'm sorry. Please... I'm so sorry..."

~~~

Across town, Claire and Helena were waiting at the airport. Given the late hour, both women had to forgo sleep, which Claire was grumbling about as they waited for one plane in particular to arrive.

"I swear if he's not on it, I'm kicking him so hard they _crack_ ," she complained. "He won't be able to look at The Nutcracker ever again without crying, swear to god."

Helena chuckled at the lack of sleep taking over Claire's brain to mouth filter. "But who will continue the proud Redfield line if you do that?"

"One, there's two of us and I'm still of age. Two, he shouldn't procreate anyway. All I need is a Chris mini-me being more extra than his dad. Nope, only way he's allowed to have kids is if he can magically have one with Leon."

"That..." Helena blinked, her brain having trouble processing that thought. "Okay, ignoring the impossibility factor, why would having a kid with Leon be the only option? They both have issues."

"Because Leon's genes would keep the mini-me's temper in check, and everything else would be pretty well balanced from each other. Well it'd probably still be a stubborn little a-hole, but aren't we all?"

"I... see." She really didn't, but Helena felt it better for her sanity not to follow up on that. "Anyway, when is Chris suppose to get here?"

Claire checked her watch— _"I can't believe you wear one of those." "Shut it, I don't feel like digging for my phone."_ —and frowned. "He should've been here. I can't believe this. I give up my beauty sleep and the big dumb bear stands me up— _whoa!_ " She's lifted clear off her feet and spun around a few times. Claire laughed gleefully as she recognised the move from when she and Chris were kids. "Put me down, idiot!"

"Can't I say hi to my favourite baby sister?" Chris got in one more spin before setting her down. Claire turned and immediately threw her arms around his neck, returning the familiar bear hug with equal force.

"Not going to comment on being your only baby sister, unless mom or dad got up to something that we didn't know about."

"Ugh, hope not. I don't feel like breaking in a new sibling." Chris grinned when the redhead stepped back to slug him in the shoulder. "Anyway, did you—"

Claire cut him off. "No, we didn't tell Leon, so he has no idea you're back early. It will be a surprise, just like you planned."

"Awesome. Been too long. I need my fix." Chris chuckled, but it faded when he noticed Helena's concerned expression. "Is everything okay, Helena?"

"Hm, for the most part," she hedged. At Chris's look, she added, "It's good you're back. He's been having some trouble sleeping. Nothing big he says, but this _is_ Leon, so..." She trailed off with a shrug.

This was the first Claire had heard about it and made plans to have a 'chat' about Leon keeping his best friend out the loop. "Maybe he's not tired enough before bed," she mentioned after a moment. "Some people can't sleep if they don't get enough exercise during the day." She turned and smacked Chris on the shoulder again, rolling her eyes when he didn't have the decency to pretend like it hurt. "You're failing your boyfriend duties."

As always, Chris found himself struggling to follow Claire's train of thought. "And what duties am I failing that would cause Leon's sleeping problem?"

"Duh. You are _obviously_ not sexing him up enough. You're suppose to screw him silly so he's konked out for the night. After-sex sleep is the best kind of sleep. Ask Helena."

The older Redfield groaned even as he glanced in Helena's direction. The agent shrugged again.

"Dunno if that's the problem with Leon, but can't say she's wrong."

And yes, Chris knew this perfectly well, but still didn't think it an appropriate topic to discuss with his _sister_ about _her best friend_. He looked back at Claire wearing frown number thirty-seven: disapproving older brother.

"Is it too late to put you up for adoption?"

"It was too late the minute you fed and took care of me," Claire quipped. "It's the Duck argument." At both Chris and Helena's confused look, she explained, "If it looks, walks, and talks like a duck, it's a duck. You took care of me like a guardian, ergo you, dear brother mine, are stuck."

"There has to be a loophole to that somewhere." He snorted and picked up the bags he'd dropped earlier when he grabbed Claire. "Well, no point in hanging around. I could do without seeing a plane for at least a couple of weeks."

"Amen," Claire agreed with due emphasis. She led the trio out and towards the parking lot where her car was waiting.

"Are you going to Leon's tonight?" Helena waited until Chris turned to her. "You know, to surprise him now?"

"Hmm." Before Chris had planned on doing just that, but now that he knew the agent was having trouble sleeping... "Maybe not. It's pretty late. He might have managed to fall asleep by now, so I wouldn't want to wake him up if he's having problems to begin with."

A reasonable plan, one that the two women agreed with. They decided Chris would crash at Claire's place, as his was too far out to drive right to. A call on Helena's phone had her pausing just when they reached Claire's car. Seeing the number left the brunette swearing before she calmed herself enough to answer.

"Harper."

"This is Hunnigan. We have a break with our runaway scientist, but you have to move on it _now_."

"Fuck." In more ways than one. If Hunnigan was calling her, then... "Should I get Kennedy and head out? And do we have anyone else in the vicinity?"

"He was called first and is already en route. You're to meet him and provide backup as you're the closest agent to him. Other reinforcements won't be available for twenty minutes at the very least."

Helena sighed at that. "Of course Leon's on the move." Then the rest of Hunnigan's info registered. "Twenty minutes!? Like _real_ minutes, not New York?"

"Very real," Hunnigan snorted. "I'm sending the address now."

"Double fuck. I'm on my way." Helena clicked off, still swearing under her breath until Claire touched her shoulder.

"Work?"

"So much. It's our escaped scientist. Leon's already on the way and I need to catch up to him." The young agent sucked on her teeth, clearly frustrated. "Good thing I drove my own car. I'll have to meet up with you later, babe. Better get you and brother bear on home."

"I'm coming with you." Helena stared hard, forcing Chris to explain. "You don't have backup, right? And Leon's got feet on the ground. You need help."

"And you don't have time to argue," Claire added, earning a look herself. "I know, he just got off a plane, but Chris can handle it, and you can't waste any more time debating, so _go_ , before Leon gets himself in even more trouble than usual." She grinned and added, "I'll keep the first aid ready, but I'm eating all the pizza if the three of you don't come back in one piece."

"...fine. Redfield, get your ass moving." Helena was already running to where her car was parked, fortunately not too far. She hopped over the front, prompting Chris to glance oddly at her even as he tossed his bags into the back before sliding into the passenger's seat.

"You always go Dukes of Hazard style like that?"

"Not gonna mention how much that reference ages you, Captain." Helena slammed the car into drive the minute the engine was running and peeled out of the parking lot. "And I hope you got weapons or something, or you're staying in the car when we get there."

"You remember who you're talking to, right?" Chris twisted around his seat to grab one of the bags and pulled it to his lap. He opened it, revealing a small arsenal of weapons in various stages of disassembly and immediately got to work putting them back together.

"Do I want to know how you got that past the airport and on the plane?"

"It was a BSAA plane for one," Chris replied while slamming a clip into one finished gun. "Two, it wasn't my carry-on."

"And you're not going to sit there and lie by telling me you didn't have something in your carry-on, are you?"

"Course not. Now what can you tell me about the guy we're going after."

"Long and short of it, we were trying to wrangle another group of would-be virus makers before they got to the research stage. One of them got away from us. We're making sure he doesn't try to align himself with a new group and get _another_ fucking 'incident' on our hands." The agent growled and just barely stopped herself from slamming a hand into her dashboard. "Fuck, what is it with these assholes and these viruses? What are they even trying to accomplish? Weapons, I get it, but these things can backfire so bad, who would even want to use it?"

Chris didn't bother answering her. There were too many to give, and none of them satisfying. "For now let's just get this guy out of circulation and keep the production contained for a while," he offered.

"Yeah, okay." Silence filled the car after that, interrupted only by the sound of Chris reassembling the rest of his guns. A text from Leon came in that Helena's phone read out loud for them, giving the description of where Leon would be. It wasn't long before Helena pulled off to the side streets, then cut her lights before carefully making their way to where she could see Leon's car was already parked. She killed the engine, letting it coast the last few feet before hitting the brake and throwing it in park.

Finding Leon was a little harder, but the pair soon spotted him hiding near an ally opposite the address Hunnigan had given Helena earlier. He was using a dumpster for cover and quickly waved the two over when he saw them. Soon as they joined the blond, Helena took a look at him and didn't like what she saw.

She kept her voice low as she started to ask, "Did you get any—"

Leon jerked his head towards the building. "Can confirm our missing Frankenstein is in there," he said, cutting her off. "Had eyes on him for a minute, and nobody's left the building."

Chris noticed the exchange and wasn't happy with the distinct way Leon avoided the question, but now wasn't the time for that. Hopefully they could catch the suspect and go home and make up for any lost sleep then. He blinked when Leon glanced his way and decided to focus on the here and now.

"Let me guess. You got back early, Claire and Helena were picking you up with Hunnigan called her, and you _politely requested_ to join her and offer backup." The tone of his words indicated the request was likely more of a demand from the captain. The faint red staining Chris's cheeks was all the answer Leon needed. "Did Helena catch you up?" At Chris's nod, the agent continued, "Our target is Hendrick Voll. Tall and gangly, greying blond business style cut and worst van dyke to grow on anyone's face. Everyone else right now is muscle, but I'm betting he's meeting with either a potential group head or a possible buyer, and I want to know who." Leon held a hand up before either of them could speak. "Already talked to Hunnigan and she agreed. The more we can pick up at once, the fewer assholes around peddling these viruses."

It was a sound strategy that neither Chris nor Helena could argue, despite both of them wanting to. Chris sighed and settled his grip on his weapon.

"So how are we playing this?" he asked Leon, letting the blond take lead.

"We try and get video of the buyer. We already have enough evidence against our guy, so anyone even remotely associating with him comes under suspicion and gives us enough to further investigate them. However..." Leon grinned, reminding Chris of an apex predator showing their teeth in full sight. "It'd be better if we can get audio to go along with it." The agent held up his phone and tapped the screen. A second later, Helena and Chris could clearly hear the scientist inside complaining about Adrian Simmons being late. Helena growled at the name, but Leon made a sharp gesture to cut her off.

She frowned and instead asked, "Is he..."

"Adrian Gerard Simmons. He's part of The Family and a direct blood relation to _that_ Simmons," Leon replied, "but I think he's a rogue element. After Simmons, the DSO had the Family put under surveillance but it seemed they removed themselves from any and all of his dealings, including anything to do with the viruses. That one of them is after something like that now means they've either broken from the Family or they're trying to keep it under wraps. It will be interesting to see what the Family will do with this when they find out," he commented, as though it was an absolute that Adrian would be discovered.

"Something painful, I hope," Helena muttered. Chris gave the agents a strange look; letting any information of an investigation like this reach other parties went against every protocol he knew, and probably a hell of a lot that he didn't. Then again, he knew DSO agents tended to be a bit fast and loose in following rules.

Leon's extended stay in the Eastern Slav Republic was proof of that.

The trio went quiet when a dark car pulled up to the building. Leon pulled out a pair of binoculars and watched as a minion exited the front passenger side and held the rear door open for the person inside. The man that stepped out bore a resemblance to Simmons, though clean-shaven and less smarmy in Leon's mind. Not that it changed the agent's opinion of the man; anyone trying to buy or sell B.O.W. viruses were trash, end of story.

"It's him alright." Leon gave his binoculars to Helena, who cursed when she laid eyes on the man. She handed them over to Chris, who had no thought of Adrian Simmons one way or another except bringing him in. But he noted the sight of Adrian set both agents on edge and wondered just how bad did their encounter with the former security advisor really go.

The captain wished he could ask but doubted he ever would, not unless one of them brought it up first.

"We need to get closer," Leon told them once Chris handed the binoculars back. "Harper, you got audio?"

"Yeah." Helena patted her vest's inner pocket. "You?"

"Yup. Let's try to catch the exchange before we move in." He glanced over his shoulder, giving Chris a firm look. "I know stealth isn't your usual thing, but going to need you to make it happen for this."

The captain couldn't argue the point. He was only glad he wasn't kitted out in full gear, or he doubted he'd be able to pull it off. "You're the boss."

Leon snorted before leaving their surveillance spot. Helena and Chris followed, the latter deciding to just copy Leon as much as possible to avoid detection.

The trio made it to the back of the building. Leon pointed up, indicating where Helena could set up the equipment to catch any conversations. Nodding, she waited for Leon to kneel, then stepped carefully onto his shoulders. The blond stood up with care, hands curled around Helena's ankles to steady her and he lifted her to a higher position.

Chris decided to keep his appreciation of Leon's unintended display of strength to himself. Didn't make it any less hot for the captain, though.

Soon as the equipment was fixed in place, Helena shifted a foot to signal Leon to set her down. He knelt with the same deliberate motion as before, waiting until Helena stepped away before straightening himself out. Leon gestured for Chris to keep a lookout for them while Helena worked with the audio. The agents listened carefully when they began picking up the discussion inside.

"I'm surprised you contacted me, Voll. From what I hear, your group didn't get very far in their research before the government lackeys swooped in." Adrian's voice was clear and tinted with a note of curiosity.

"We never made it to the production stage, true, but the research was completed and is sound," Voll replied. "I made sure to have a copy of everything secured for this very situation. The others were... shortsighted in regards to possible unwanted attention. Not that they're in a position to negotiate."

Leon bit down on a snarl. Voll sounded far too smug for his own good.

"This guy's an idiot," the younger agent whispered. "Ten to one if we weren't grabbing him now, Adrian would eventually stab him in the back."

"Not taking that bet," Leon told her. They fell silent when Adrian started talking again.

"So it would seem, but still, research can only get you so far without the means to create a viable product. I take it that's what you're hoping to acquire from me?"

"I'm not particularly picky in who would give me the resources I need." Voll continued to speak as though from a better position than what he really had. "But I knew you were on the list of potentially interested buyers the group was considering. Has that interest changed?"

Adrian ignored the question. "You're asking for much with little to show for it," he replied instead. "What guarantee can you offer to prove you're not wasting my time? And I shouldn't have to tell you that anyone with half a brain will ask the same thing."

"I have part of the research here. Have some of your people go over it. It won't be enough for them to create a virus on their own, but they can verify my claims." From the slight vibration in his voice, Leon guessed Voll finally realised his position wasn't as secured as he initially thought.

"Somewhat reasonable, I suppose." Adrian paused, and the trio could only guess what he might be doing. "Once this is verified, I will contact you regarding facilities and personnel. We will negotiate a budget at that time."

"All well and good, but I need a 'resting' place sooner rather than later. I'm not partial to whatever accommodations my former colleagues might have been given."

"Oh I agree," Adrian quipped. The trio had no doubt he caught the faint hint of desperation in Voll's voice. "And better to have you close by to further talks as the research is examined."

"Idiot indeed," Leon murmured while disengaging the audio equipment, "least we'd keep him alive. He probably doesn't realise he's a dead man one way or another with Adrian." The agent nodded to Helena and Chris. "I think this is good enough, and I don't want to risk Voll walking out of here with Adrian." He pulled out one of his wing shooters and cocks it. "Let's go."

It's a matter of seconds for the three to enter the building, guns up, demanding for weapons to be dropped. 

It took less than that for pandemonium to ensue.

This left the trio to take cover behind a stack of metal containers and exchange fire with a much larger group of muscle than they originally anticipated.

"These guys must have been inside already; they weren't with Voll when he entered." A bullet pinged off the edge of the container. Leon swore as he reloaded and took a shot, getting one minion in the shoulder. "I should've double-checked the damn info."

Helena snarled as she fired several rounds. "Fucking F.O.S. should've checked, it's what they're paid for." She decided the look of one minion was offensive and shot him in the pelvis. "Damn, was hoping for a nut shot."

"Someone is definitely asleep at their desk if this is what the F.O.S. is giving you two." Chris didn't want to think about the pair walking into an ambush. He was satisfied at least that he managed to cripple Adrian enough that the man wouldn't be able to run anywhere without help.

"The whole damn department is going to get an earful. I'll sic Hunnigan on them." Leon took another shot. A figure on the edge of his vision had the blond cursing. "Voll's doing a runner." Without thought or hesitation, Leon moved away from their cover.

He brought his gun to bear.

_Use whatever force is necessary_

He lined up his sight.

_The priority is stopping Voll._

Voll fell into his crosshairs.

_Dead or Alive_

He pulled the trigger.

  


_"I don't want to die..."_

  


Sound vanished. Static filled Leon's ears. His vision flooded with red. Voll crumpled to the floor several feet away, a hole in the back of his head.

A ringing in his ears. The acrid smell of gunpowder.

The warm tackiness on his hand. Her hair brushing his skin.

_"I don't want to die..."_

He pulled the trigger.

He _pulled_ the trigger.

_"Don't let me die..."_

"I'm sorry."

  


" _ **LEON!**_ "

Reality slammed into Leon in a burst that exploded on his senses. Instinct had him diving back for cover, the heat of a just missed bullet more of a vague notion. Glancing around the corner, Leon saw a guard lying in a heap and knew who had taken him out.

It wasn't hard for the blond to guess he'd be dead right now if it wasn't for Chris.

When he turned to say thanks, Leon noticed the harsh look the captain leveled him with. He could feel the thick force of Chris's disapproval radiating off him. Well, he'd almost gotten himself shot by blanking out. Leon felt he deserved it. Hell, Chris's reproach was going to pale to Leon's self-recriminations once the blond got some time to himself.

Nobody was better at browbeating Leon over his perceived 'fuck ups' than the agent himself.

Helena's shouting jerked Leon's focus away to hear what the younger agent was saying.

"Give it up, Simmons! Voll's dead!" she yelled. "You have a better shot at living if you come quietly. Pretty sure The Family isn't happy with you right now."

The gunfire stopped. Amidst the silence, Adrian Simmons stepped forward, hands in the air after barking for his men to drop their weapons. With their boss dead, Voll's minions followed suit. The trio stepped out from their own cover. Helena jerked her gun to indicate the men all step away from theirs. Once the distance was acceptable, she put hers away and began collecting them as Leon and Chris covered her. She called in the arrest as she did so, getting an affirmative from Hunnigan.

The scene was cleared, with Adrian Simmons and the muscle all arrested and on their way to interrogations. Neither Helena nor Leon were surprised at Adrian's surrender; federal prison was still more kind than what The Family would do to him if they found out.

And _if_ that organization just _happened_ to get hold of Adrian's dealings, well it was out of the agents' hands at that point. Sucked to be him.

Leon was grateful during the clean-up that Chris held off their confrontation. He didn't need this to get back to anyone's ears. The mandated psychiatric reviews that would get him were not an experience Leon wanted to suffer through at the moment.

It's when he walked toward his car that Leon could feel the captain bearing down on him. He took a deep breath, ill-prepared to explain what he couldn't understand himself.

It surprised both of them when Helena jumped in front of Chris and halfway bulldozed him off to the side. The blond was almost curious enough to step closer to hear what they're saying. Yet considering Helena might have just helped him dodge a bullet— _'Very funny, brain.'_ —Leon put it out of his mind and waited to see what the pair would do.

A few feet away, Helena and Chris were having a harshly whispered disagreement.

"What the fuck, Harper? Why did you stop me? He could have gotten himself killed, and I want to know why!" Chris's voice spoke of thinly contained anger despite the controlled volume.

"I know. I saw it too. But I think I know why." The agent ran a tired hand through her hair. "Look, Leon's had some sleeping problems of late. Just... let him get some rest. You can calm down in the meantime and talk to him in the morning, without being mad."

Chris inhaled, fists clenched and eyes squeezed shut. After a moment he exhaled and let some of his ire seep out with it. He'd forgotten about the sleeping issue; Leon had seemed fine when the captain left, so it must be a recent development. And knowing the blond, Chris would bet all his guns that it was a lot worse than what Helena thought it to be.

Helena was right. Chris needed to be calm when he talked to Leon if he wanted the younger man to talk about his sleeping problems instead of clamming up as he would otherwise. The captain was too angry, too _scared_ , not to yell. Leon didn't need that right now.

"Okay. But I'm definitely talking to him tomorrow. If what I saw was due to him not sleeping, then we might need an intervention."

Helena nodded in agreement. More than that, she was relieved Chris would wait until then. Seeing Leon freeze up like that had lodged her heart in her throat, so she could only guess how bad it was for Chris. But it had also sparked a memory for the agent, and she now had an idea of just what the sleeping problems were related to.

It was going to take a lot of careful handling on their parts to make sure Leon didn't break.

"Okay, but before that, I'll need to talk to you about some things. Specifically, Tall Oaks Cathedral."

The name sent a furious scowl burning across the captain's face. "Why does so much shit seem to come back to the crap Simmons's pulled?"

"Because he knew how to get his hooks into people and rip them apart without care, so long as he got what he wanted." Helena shrugged. "For the most part we try not to think on it, but sometimes... it still can rear up just to slap you back down."

And there in her eyes Chris could see Helena's sister, though he never met Deborah personally. He could guess she was as much of a shadow over the young agent's shoulders as the lost survivors were on Leon's. The last of his tension faded, the brunet simply nodding.

"Okay, come by tomorrow so we can talk, then we'll go to Leon's and hopefully clear the air."

Helena pulled herself away from those melancholic thoughts and hummed an agreeing note. Chris started walking over to Leon; she followed just to be sure he kept his word about waiting until tomorrow. When they reached the older agent's car, she could see Leon was still apprehensive of the captain but Chris managed to rein his temper in.

There was a moment of awkward silence, broken when Chris groaned as the long flight coupled with the high-adrenaline last-minute mission addition took their toll. Everything set in at once; the captain was thoroughly exhausted.

"That... was rough," he moaned. "Tell me all your assignments aren't like that."

The blond shrugged. "Depends on how good the intel is when going in. Can't say I think much of it for these last two, though. Definitely going to talk to Hunnigan."

"I hope she smacks some heads around, because this has been ridiculous," Helena added. Her irritation was shared by Leon. F.O.S. was doing a piss-poor job of trying to ensure their agents' safety. Helena _really_ wanted to be in the room when Hunnigan let them have it.

"Ugh, I'm wiped. Wasn't planning on a shoot-out right off a plane."

Leon took a good look at Chris. "You _just_ got back and dived right into this mess, didn't you?" Fortunately, Leon didn't try to scold the older man on this; he would have done the same in Chris's situation. "I can't imagine how tired you are. You'd better go and get some sleep."

A few choice words on sleeping lay at the tip of Chris's tongue, but a sharp pain on his toes kept him quiet. He was going to tell Claire about her lead-foot girlfriend later, though.

"Leon's right, though we appreciate the help," Helena chirped to cover the sound Chris's mumbled swearing. "I'll take you back to your place, or you can crash with Claire since her pad is closer." She glanced over at Leon and added, "We could get one of the scrubs here to drive your car back if you want to catch a lift with us instead."

The agent shook his head. "Not sure if I trust one of them with my car. And Chris really needs to get back. I know how little sleep one gets on a plane." He waved a hand as he turned to get in his car. "Get Chris to a bed. We can go over the reports tomorrow with Hunnigan. Including how much someone at the F.O.S. botched this one."

"You got it." She looked over her shoulder and jerked a thumb at her car while looking at Chris. "Go ahead, Redfield. Just gonna go over a summary report before I let him go."

It appeared Chris would refuse, but again, Helena was very good at silently imposing her own will. And he had to admit she knew more about the situation that Chris himself did. He sighed once, nodded, then went to get in her car. She turned back to Leon when she heard the passenger door close.

"We really going over a summary now?" the blond asked. "I told you, we can go over them tomorrow—"

"You think I'm going to stand here rehashing how much the info was forked and still undercooked?" Helena shook her head. "You know me better than that, Kennedy."

He did, or Leon thought he did. "Then what is it, really?"

"It's about you getting some sleep yourself. I mean it," she said, cutting off Leon's protests. "You're probably more tired than Captain Capacious back there," she remarked while tapping her temple. Leon blinked before a slow grin tugged his lips.

"Did you just call Chris an airhead?"

"Don't know what you're talking about," Helena sniffed with fake haughtiness. "Never mind that. You need to go home and go straight to bed. I'm gonna call Hunnigan and see if we can come in later with the reports. She shouldn't mind since we stopped Voll and handed Adrian Simmons over on a damn silver platter."

A small, tired chuckle escaped Leon. "That'd be nice, though kinda want to see her rake some F.O.S. agents over the coals. And you don't have to worry," he added, "I was going to fall into bed soon as I got my shoes off."

There was a wording in there that left Helena suspicious, but she couldn't pin it down. And trying to get any more out of Leon would only make him withdraw and possibly make Chris antsy. She opted to drop it, hoping Leon kept his promise to go to bed. "Fine. Go home, and get some sleep." Helena watched as Leon pulled away before turning to her car. She got in and took a slow breath before starting it up.

"He said he's going to fall into bed soon as he gets there," she said to the silent question hanging between them. "Exact words were he was going to bed soon as he got his shoes off."

Chris's resting frown grew deeper. "I don't think I like the wording of that."

"Falling into bed doesn't exactly mean he'll go to sleep," Helena agreed. She threw the car into drive and pulled away from the scene techs were still going over. "But it's the best we can do for now. Tomorrow we'll talk to him after I grab you for a chat."

"And you can't tell me right now because..."

The agent rolled her eyes. "Because I'm tired as hell and don't have the mental capacity to deal. Because I was just in a shootout at the O.K. Corral and my ears are still ringing. Because I just saw my partner, _your_ boyfriend, almost get shot because he blanked out and I kinda need to process that. And there's the final reason."

Chris had winced during the tirade but still felt inclined to ask, "Final reason?"

"Because... I just don't fucking want to, Redfield."

"...fair enough." And also fair, Chris didn't know how long the two DSO agents had been looking for Voll, so they both might be more tired than he first knew, just to through a gunfight in on top of that. Not the best time to discuss potential emotional trauma.

"But we're absolutely talking about this tomorrow," he tossed in, needing to know whatever Helena did about Tall Oaks Cathedral.

"We are. Because if this is what I think it is, Leon's going to need a lot of support. _Tomorrow_ ," she emphasised when Chris went to protest. "We know he's going home, so Leon will be fine for one more night. Tomorrow I'll grab you so we can talk, we'll get breakfast to soften him up, then we'll figure things from there. Good?"

"...yeah." The captain slumped deeper in the seat, ignoring Helena's lead-foot as easily as she ignored the speed limit. He didn't have it in him to try and scold her about speed; he'd done it plenty of times himself. Plus, he really did need to get some rest. Chris couldn't imagine what would happen when they talked to Leon about his ghosts.

Though it couldn't come fast enough for him, Chris was not looking forward to tomorrow.

~~~

Leon told only a small lie, in that he stripped off a bit more than just his shoes when he got home. He was only wearing his briefs when he fell into bed. The air was warm enough that he didn't bother getting under the covers. His arms wound over one of his pillows as he pulled his to his chest. He was beyond tired, but fear still kept him awake.

Though they took out Voll, the agent knew he screwed up big time. Fortunately, Helena wouldn't put it in the reports, and Chris likely wouldn't be acknowledged at all, having been an unauthorised addition anyway.

 _'Gotta love politics,'_ he snorted to himself.

Still, he knew Chris would be over tomorrow to talk. But would it hurt to tell him what's been keeping Leon up? Leon wasn't sure why this nightmare was plaguing him. True that he preferred to handle these things on his own, but Chris had... Claire had... hell, all of their circle made it very clear that he could come to them if he had a problem. After working as a solo agent for so long, it was a notion Leon was still getting used to. Maybe... maybe confessing these dreams to Chris wouldn't be a bad thing?

But that was tomorrow, and the blond still had to make it through tonight. He hoped with how tired he was that the nightmare wouldn't bother him.

_'Please, just let me get to sleep tonight. I'll tell him everything I can, just let me sleep.'_

~~~

Her skin is smooth. That's the first thing he notices. The second is how even in the middle of chaos, or the aftermath, he finds the colour so... gentle. A warm, russet brown.

The third thing is how fast both the warmth and colour are fading.

Her eyes open enough to show a deeper brown from her skin.

"...please... don't..."

Her braids feel like a thousand tiny, soft ropes falling over his arm.

He's holding her close. He can feel her body growing heavier and more limp by the second.

The statue at the alter offers neither comfort nor penance. Only judgement.

"...don't... wanna die..."

_Please. I don't want to do this._

"...don't... let me die..."

_Don't I have enough blood on my hands?_

The heartbeat. He could feel it slowing. Too slow too slow.

_How much more do I need to spill? How much more do I need to wear?_

Too late. Again too late. Worse, he'd released that... _thing_. And now...

Now rehllikotevahuoy

"...don't want... to die..."

_Tell me, when will it be enough?_

He cradles her close, her head slightly over his shoulder.

His eyes squeeze shut.

"...I don't want to die..."

She's crying. He can feel it against his shoulder. He wonders if she can feel his tears as well.

"...I don't want to die..."

_I don't want to do this. Please, God, I don't want to do this._

erif

He pulls the trigger.

~~~

He couldn't tell if the scream is still within the dregs of his dream or followed him into reality. All Leon knew is he can't get enough air.

A murderer, who can't get enough air. Fitting, as he shouldn't be breathing anyway.

With each wheezing pull in his lungs, Leon stumbled away from his bed toward his closet. The still rational part of his mind recognised the panic attack and simply followed a routine he was never conscious of having made in the first place.

He yanked the closet door open and fell inside, shutting himself in the dark. He needed a shirt. Not enough air, he needed a shirt... there! Leon pulled it off the hanger and threw it over his head without pulling it on. His constant, irregular breathing made it too warm under the cloth, but it was beginning to force him to take slower, deeper pulls of air. It took a bit, but he managed to get his breathing under control. The darkness he'd cocooned himself in brought a strange sense of security to him, but did nothing to erase the visions of the dream.

"I'm sorry."

He didn't know who he's saying it to. Who he's saying it _for_. He didn't have a name. Didn't have a damn thing except a face and the soft pleading in his ears.

"I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry."

He could hear her. He would always hear her.

She can't hear him.

She never will, ever again.

"I'm sorry. I'm sorry I'm sorry i'm sorry imsorry _imsorryimsorryimsorryimsorry_..."

He lost his breath once more for someone who would never know.

"...imsorryimsorryimsorry..."


	2. restore

~~~ day memory ~~~

The banging on the door was one of the worst alarm sounds Chris had ever set for himself. Until he remembered he never set an alarm.

"Up and at 'em, Captain Spanks!"

Chris jack-knifed up and glared at the all-too-chipper look of his sister in the morning. He grumbled and rubbed tiredly at his hair. Then what she called him registered.

"...I know Jake came up with that one, so what's the reasoning behind it?"

"General consensus during a game of 'Never Have I Ever', which was right after a round of King's Cup, so we were _pret-ty_ wasted," Claire told him. She walked over, scruffing Chris's hair as he slapped lightly at her hand. "Everyone, when three-sheets to the wind, agreed your muscles are fake. Jake suggested Spanks for muscles, and it stuck."

"Well, that makes things easy. Everyone will know what Jake died of when I get my hands on him. And no," Chris pointed a finger sharply at Claire, "not even Sherry will stop me from killing the little shit."

"You keep frowning and you'll give yourself more wrinkles." Claire threw open the curtains, earning a soft curse from the older Redfield. "Besides, not long after that, the rest of us agreed Jake was just jealous. Shuts him right up, in case he ever tries to use that on you."

"Thanks for the ammo, I guess." Chris sighed and pulled himself out of bed, grateful he decided to wear sweatpants and a tee last night. Claire would get an eyeful otherwise, and that was trauma neither sibling needed so early in the morning.

"And just where was I during this session of drunken debauchery?" he asked. Chris rooted around in his bag and pulled out a shirt he thought would be good enough, then searched for some jeans he knew had been packed. "Are you leaving me out of group drink nights?"

"Not at all. Leon wasn't there, either. Oh, wait, that was probably the night you left explicit threats on everyone's phone about having Leon to yourself. Which, by the by, was unnecessarily scarring. I didn't need to know what happens to inverted testicles." Claire moved to sit on the vacated bed while averting her eyes. The two had no problems dressing in front of each other, so long as they could avoid a direct visual of the other.

The incident of walking in on each other in the bathroom had required extra therapy on both their parts.

"It worked, didn't it?" Jeans found, Chris did a quick change on the spot. "I'm done."

Claire turned back when it was safe. "Yes, it did. Anyway, Helena's up and looking for you. Something about breakfast and hitting Leon's place?"

Last night rushed back to him as Chris grunted, "Yeah. Gotta go over that assignment, even if I tagged in last second." True enough, but definitely not at the forefront of the captain's mind. Still, if Helena hadn't mentioned anything to Claire then neither would he.

"Ugh, bureaucracy at its finest, I bet. Well get going, then. She's waiting for you in the living room. I'd offer coffee but she said you'd get some while you were out, and the reports on this were important."

"She's right, but thanks anyway." Chris grabbed his bag, paused, then thoroughly mussed up Claire's hair into a wild bird's nest before running out. "Meet you at your car!" he shouted as he passed Helena while running away from the shrieking banshee his sister had become.

"Come back here and die like a man, you dick!"

The captain did no such thing and booked it to the garage. He grinned when he heard Helena doing her best to placate the younger Redfield. He knew he was going to get it when he came back, but Chris felt he was going to need this before whatever emotional weight would be thrown at his heart.

Five minutes later saw Helena coming out. She glanced at Chris and shook her head.

"I'm to tell you that your death will be slow, painful, and humiliating."

Chris chuckled. "I am confident in my role as an older brother that she will not kill me. Maiming, however, is probably not off the table unless I bring a peace offering."

"It better be a big offering." Helena clicked her remote. When Chris heard the beep, he quickly got into the front passenger's side while the agent walked around to the driver's side. He noted what she was wearing as she got in, and vaguely wondered if jeans and a tee were standard gear when dealing with potentially stressful emotions. It made sense in a way; be as physically comfortable as you can because a storm is on the horizon.

As they pulled away from Claire's place, Chris decided to brave the storm front.

"Last night..."

"Flashback," Helena cut him off. "I'm pretty sure it was a flashback, and I know what the likely cause is."

She trailed off, and Chris was less than patient. "So what caused it?" he asked, barely covering his irritation. Helena ignored it to continue.

"There was an incident in Tall Oaks Cathedral. It... wasn't included in the report. I thought Leon had forgotten—no, I'd hoped the memory had been completely erased from his mind. It... seemed like it had, but the way he blanked out last night after shooting Voll..."

Chris waited, but Helena didn't pick up the conversation right away. "Leon isn't known for freezing up," he said, hoping to nudge the agent back to the topic.

"He doesn't, so long as the targets are infected," she corrected. "But both Claire and Sherry told me it's different when he has to shoot uninfected people. Not that it stops him, but it gets to Leon more. I'm sure even if I hadn't been there, Leon would have shot President Benford before leaving that room, if for no other reason than to free his body from the virus. But Benford was already infected, so despite their friendship, it was probably still easier to shoot him than when Leon has to shoot a normal human."

"If someone's making or selling viruses, sometimes it's inevitable," Chris offered. He grew worried at the hollow laugh answering back. "Helena?"

"If only it had been that. Christ, if only it had been that." Helena pulled into the parking lot of a random diner. She found a space but didn't get out immediately once she turned her car off. The young agent took a deep breath, then another. "That would have been simple. Easy. No, this was worse. A lot fucking worse." She gripped the steering wheel, then steeled herself.

"It was just after we defeated the Lepotica..."

  
memory: Tall Oaks Cathedral

The monster is dead, so were the infected. It's a mess, and they're to blame. No, he didn't know it was there, but if there's one thing Leon has learned about megalomaniacs it's that nothing good is ever behind doors with an elaborate lock.

He steps over the bodies, trying to take count. So far there are only two healthy yet understandably traumatised survivors. To go from fleeing the infected in the city, only to have to experience this? Leon is surprised they aren't in complete shock at this point. Then again, he knows firsthand just how resilient humans can be when faced with a zombie outbreak.

He and Helena check the rooms on either side to make sure all the infected have been dealt with. Helena takes the right side, Leon the left.

It's the second to last room that he finds her.

"...help..."

_'Oh no. No no no not this. Please, to all the gods in existence, not this.'_

She is no older than thirteen. A slip of a girl with daisies painted on her jeans, and a kitten stitched on her shirt. A pink jacket lies crumpled next to her. He can guess she tried to use it to keep from breathing in the gas. Leon wishes it had worked. The faint grey slowly discolouring her skin tells him it didn't.

"...help..."

The agent forces his legs to move, bringing him to the girl in a couple of strides. He kneels deal, brushing some of the braids away from her face.

"It's okay. That thing's dead. We'll... I'll get you some help..." At least he'll try, Helena's lead be damned. He'll go through the whole damn town if he has to.

He will, because Leon can't do _nothing_. She's too young. She's innocent. He has to do _something_ , dammit!

"I can feel it," she says, and her voice is rough, her breathing growing laboured. "I didn't... breathe in... but it still..."

"Don't talk. I'm sure I can—"

"I don't want to die..."

It doesn't matter what happens to him. Leon has to find help. He has to.

"You won't. I won't let you... I swear I'll go get help and—"

The girl shakes her head, not letting him make that promise. Leon feels his heart breaking because she knows what he's unwilling to accept.

She's going to die.

When the teen eyes his gun instead, Leon thinks he's going to cry.

_'Please not this. I don't want to do this.'_

"I don't want to die a monster..."

Leon's voice catches on a muffled sob. No child should face this. No child should know they are going to die.

"Please? Don't let me die like that. Please just shoot me. Please, mister."

No child should _beg_ for their _death_.

"I... I..." What can he say? What can he do? In the end, nothing, and both Leon and this girl know this.

"Don't let me..." She takes a breath, and it's a struggle to listen to her fight for air. "Don't want to die like that."

"You... you won't."

Because that's all he can do. Leon can't save her. He can't save anyone. All he can do is grant her request.

He'll stain his hands, so she can die while hers are clean.

"You promise?"

There's no need to say it; Leon's surrendered himself to this. Instead, with a tear-choked voice he asks, "What's your name, sweetie?"

The young girl closes her eyes for a moment, Leon's heart thudding in his chest for each second before they open again.

"Melanie... Davis." And somehow, knowing that she won't become a monster, Melanie is able to smile. "What's ... yours?"

_'Oh please don't smile, Melanie. You shouldn't be happy about this... please, sweetie.'_

"Leon Kennedy. Melanie is a pretty name, and suits you."

It does. Despite the slow loss of colour and fading warmth, Leon thinks she would have been a beautiful woman if she'd had the chance to grow up.

"Your eyes are... pretty too... Mister Leon."

Wrong. Wrong. All of this is so wrong.

"Thank you, Melanie." He lifts her with the care of touching precious, fragile china, and holds her close. Not even Leon is sure of why he carries her into the main room but doesn't stop himself. Helena runs towards him, but the older agent stops her with a sharp jerk of his head. It's enough, as she can see the girl and guesses at what happens. She sees the anguish in Leon's eyes, which compels her to speak.

"Do you want me to—"

"I promised Melanie." That's all he says, all that needs to be said. Leon walks in front of the central statue and kneels down. He doesn't know if this is an act of deliverance for Melanie's soul or perdition for his own, but he feels it needs to be done. He faces the statue while holding Melanie, her head settled over his shoulder, his left arm around her back.

"Do you think... people who turn into monsters... still go to heaven?"

So many ways to answer that, except no, there's only one answer to give. "If they were a good person, then they'll go to heaven."

"So Mama will be there?"

Leon wonders if there would be anything left of his heart after tonight. "I know she will. She's waiting for you right now."

"Okay." Melanie exhales, then let her weight rest fully against Leon. "I'm ready... to see Mama."

_'I'm... not ready. Sweetie, I'm not ready at all.'_

He reaches for his 9mm because anything else would cause too much damage. Leon can't risk it; leaving her whole is something he has to do.

The gun never felt so heavy in his hand before. He tightens his left arm around her, pulling Melanie close. There might be other, safer ways to do this, but Leon will be damned more so if he doesn't give Melanie every comfort he can offer. "I'm... glad I met you, Melanie." He holds the gun up to her temple, the barrel barely a millimeter above the skin, hoping she doesn't feel it.

Melanie closes her eyes and smiles. "Thank you, Mister Leon."

 _'I'm sorry.'_ Leon turns his face to the right.

He pulls the trigger.

His ears are ringing from being so close. He doesn't let go. Her body goes completely limp, heavy in his arms. He doesn't let go. The blood mists against the left side of his face. He doesn't let her go. He can feel it dripping down from what he knows is the exit wound. He doesn't let go.

Her heart has stopped.

He doesn't let go.

"Leon?"

The agent can't hear anything right now. The gunshot was much too close to his ears; they'll likely be ringing for a while. Not that Leon cares about that. He doesn't care about much of anything except the weight in his arms.

"Leon." Helena approaches slowly, stepping around until she faces him. She had never seen anyone scream in complete silence until this moment.

"Leon, she's... you have to let go."

He doesn't let go.

He _can't_ let go.

He feels a hand on his shoulder and pulls Melanie closer. No, not her, just a... no. Melanie. It really is a pretty name.

"Leon."

A breath, then another. He has to let go. Rationally, Leon knows this is what he should do. He can't explain to Helena his fear. Why he doesn't want to. He's afraid of what he'll see. Afraid the last image of the young girl will overshadow her last smile.

But he did this. He did this and now he has to face the consequences.

Leon lets her go.

It's almost shocking how unnecessary his fear was. He lays the girl down and sees not a terrible wound as he thought. Melanie left him with a peaceful smile, a parting gift to keep her memory whole and unmarred.

Leon carefully lays her body on the ground, wishing he had something to put under her head. He'd use his jacket if the practical side of his mind hadn't cautioned about needing the pockets for ammo.

A cloth is held out in front of him. Blinking, the blond looks up to see one of the survivors holding a worn cover, likely from one of the side rooms. She says nothing and lays it down within Leon's reach before walking back to the other survivor. Likewise, Leon keeps silent and folds the cloth to carefully place beneath Melanie's head. He stands up after however long it takes for his mind to return to their circumstances. Then, Leon glances at the statue.

Even in death, Melanie looks more warm and alive than whatever pissant saint stood there, judging them, judging _him_.

Is it even really a saint? Or just a statue someone had installed because it fit in with the decor. Leon doesn't know nor care. Except now he has to; whoever had it placed there also knew about the stairs. They probably were the ones who had it built. And they knew what was down there, including that monster.

Seething rage fills every corner of his being. Whoever had this built, they caused this. They took her life as much as he did. But they wouldn't care. So he'll make them care, and regret. Leon shouldn't be the only one, after all.

The agent blinks when Helena comes into his field of vision. Oh, right. Her, and her so-called lead. For one scorching second, Leon hates her for stringing him along, for dragging him into this. And hates himself for listening to her.

No, that's not right. Better to keep hold of these feelings and save them for the ones who deserve it. And if it turns out Helena did cause this as she said, well, he's good at hiding bodies when needed.

"Is this 'lead' also responsible for that monster?" Leon is sure his voice sounds odd since he can't hear himself just yet. He also can't hear Helena's answer, but Leon's practiced reading lips.

"Yes. It... wasn't here the last time, but yes, I'm positive of that."

"Fine, let's go." Leon turns to the stairs, focusing only on finding the ones behind the attack. Leaving behind everything else, including the memory of soft brown eyes, and a gentle smile.

  
present

How Chris kept himself from crying, he'll never know. It was impossible to keep the tremor out his voice when he spoke.

"Leon never mentioned that, even when he talked to me about the cathedral. From the sounds of things, that should have nearly eaten him alive with guilt, but he never so much as hinted about something like that happening." Though perturbed as he was about that, Chris was slightly grateful as well. He couldn't imagine how much worse off Leon would be if he couldn't recover from that kind of pain. Still, it didn't sound like the agent at all.

"I'm not surprised he never talked about it, because Leon doesn't remember it."

" _ **WHAT?!**_ "

The young agent winced. "Not right in my ear, Redfield!" she scolded, but Chris didn't care about her comfort right then.

"What do you mean he 'doesn't remember'?! How the hell could he have forgotten _that_!" And he knew he shouldn't be angry with Helena. Knew he should fall back on his methods to control his temper. All of that was thrown out the window at her revelation. "Why—how did he _forget_!"

Helena kept her own voice controlled, something she picked up from Claire. "In hindsight, it was pretty easy, I imagine. He wanted to know who was responsible. Then he found out, and that was even worse. Toss in the fact that Simmons effectively put the suspicion on us, then the trip to China... it was pure chaos at that point. But..." Helena sighed. The weight of it still affected her when she gave herself time to reflect on it all. "He forgot even before then. Don't know if it was because he became hyper-focused on finding the ones behind the attack, or just a coping mechanism to keep him from breaking down on the spot. It happened not long after, in truth..."

  
memory: after the cathedral

It takes some time to get to the next city over from Tall Oaks. Less time to find a decent motel. And thank everything for Hunnigan; she kept their bank accounts from being frozen. Helena makes a note to send the woman a fruit basket when this is all over. It might be from inside a prison cell, but she'll still send it.

Right now she's rubbing a towel through her hair after enjoying the motel's offering of lukewarm water and depressing water pressure. Compared to everything that's happened before, that measly shower felt like paradise.

Leon is busy taking his own shower, though she made sure to leave him as much warm water as she could. He really has no part in this, and here she is dragging him along. He could have, perhaps _should have_ turned her in, prove his own innocence, and just be done with it. But he's still with her. Still willing to go against Simmons even at the risk of jail if they can't find the evidence proving Simmons's guilt.

There will be no way to fully pay Leon back for any of this, but Helena swears if they could get Simmons, then she'd spend the rest of her life trying.

The door to the bathroom opens, letting one very exhausted looking agent step out. Like Helena, Leon is drying off his hair and grumbling under his breath about tiny towels. He's dressed in a new pair of jeans—again, thank you, Hunnigan—and t-shirt. Okay, Helena would be lying if she says she wasn't hoping he'd come out shirtless, but nobody would know what went on in her head, so she allows herself a _little_ indulgence.

"We're going to have to make sure our passports check out, though getting permission to carry will be a bitch," the older agent grumbles, breaking Helena from her thoughts.

"Do we really need to have them with us for the plane?" Not that she wouldn't feel more secure, but if it's going to make it harder for them to get going, maybe they can do without.

Leon snorts loudly. "If there's one thing I've learned, it's to _never_ go anywhere without a weapon, and a knife only goes so far." He goes to look through the clothes Hunnigan had waiting for them and holds up a purple shirt. "This is... not my usual style but I guess beggars can't be choosers." He slips it on and starts buttoning while Helena thinks about their situation.

She must have been inside her head for too long. Helena almost jumps when she feels Leon's hand on her shoulder, pulling her back to the present. "Wh-what?"

"You doing okay?" he asks. "I mean... your sister and..." Leon choked a little, not sure what to say but wishing he could say something.

"...If we can get Simmons, I'll be a lot better." Helena rests a hand over Leon's and smiles, grateful. "For now I'll be okay. I should be asking you that. I know this can't be easy for you, and the church..."

The blond sighs and pulls away. "I could have done without tonight. It really did feel like Raccoon City. Maybe worse. By the time I got there, the only ones still alive were Sherry and Marvin. Well, he was dying, so not sure..." Leon sighs again. "I didn't lose people there like I did tonight," he finishes quietly.

Helena both can and can't imagine that. "Reading the file and experiencing it are two different things. I don't know how it was for you in Raccoon City, but if it was even a fraction like tonight, then it was nothing less than Hell." She bites her lip, not sure how to approach the most tragic aspect of Tall Oaks. "I do know, because of Deborah, how you must have felt with Melanie."

Of the many shocks and heartaches she's experienced that night, Helena doesn't know how to feel when Leon lets the next question drop so casually from his lips.

"Who is Melanie?"

  
present

"It took a couple of more questions before I realised he'd completely forgotten Melanie and what happened to her," Helena finished telling Chris. "I considered trying to help him remember, but given what we were about to do, I wasn't sure if him going in with that kind of trauma would have been a good idea. In the end, I went along with it and allowed him to forget." The young agent breathed in slowly, then released it in one noisy exhale. "I did try to get him to remember when everything was settled, but it just seemed like he completely erased it from his mind, and again, I didn't know if it would do more harm than good."

"Only now you think he's starting to remember?" It was less a question; Chris knew the answer as he saw some of the effects for himself. On one hand, he wanted to yell at Helena for not speaking up sooner, for not helping Leon more. But he had to admit to himself that Chris likely would have done the same. It'd seem both easier and kinder for Leon to just forget everything that happened with Melanie. The moment the thought crossed his mind Chris felt a pang of guilt. Yes, it was easier, but also unfair to both Leon and Melanie. Knowing the blond as he did, Chris was certain Leon would _want_ to remember the young girl, and Melanie deserved to be remembered.

Leon would absolutely want to remember, so why had it taken so long, and why had it become so difficult? It took a bit to ponder everything until it came to him.

"It's safe for him now," the captain said a few minutes later. "It's safe for him to process all of that, and his mind is trying to, except Leon's never had to do anything like that before, and his guilt over it is still trying to block everything out."

A slew of muttered curses left the young agent's lips. "Dammit, I should've... I should've done something. Done better. Dammit!" Helena slammed a palm against her steering wheel, then let her forehead thunk against it with a sigh. "Shit, I'm sorry, Leon. I shouldn't have let this go on for so long."

"It's not your fault." In a way Chris did want to blame Helena, but he couldn't. "I would have done the same. But it's not right to either of them." At Helena's confused grunt Chris explained, "The only one who remembers Melanie are you and Leon. And I'm guessing you were preoccupied so she... might not have made as much of an impact on you," he offered as diplomatically as he could. That earned a self-deprecating snort from the driver's seat.

"I was a one-track dick," Helena intoned. "No need to be nice about it. The ones in the city, the bus, other survivors in the church, I didn't care about any of them. All I wanted to do was save Deborah. In hindsight, I don't know why I thought Simmons would have ever let her go. He expected me to die in Tall Oaks, after all. Deborah would've been a witness. She was dead the minute he grabbed both of us. And I was too blind to see it, so I didn't do nearly as much as Leon to try and save others." Helena sighed again and leaned back, head tilted against the seat. "And it probably makes me sound like more of an asshole to say I don't feel nearly as much guilt as Leon. I feel some, sure, and also stupid for being used and played. But nothing close to what he feels. I think I just kind of shut down a lot after Deborah."

"That's understandable. I'd... probably have done the same if I'd been in your shoes," Chris confessed. "Even thinking about Claire in Raccoon City still makes me wanna throw up, even all this time later." He paused when he heard a dry chuckle between them. "What?"

"I love my sister, but if I were to place odds, she wouldn't have made it out of Raccoon City, even with Leon's help. Claire's a bad-ass, pure and simple." Helena glanced to the side and nearly laughed at the preening expression on the captain's face. "Yeah yeah, feel proud, papa Bearfield."

"That sounds suspiciously like a Jake name."

"I'm neither confirming nor denying. You'll have to take it up with him." Helena mustered enough energy to get out of the car, Chris following a second later. "So what's the plan? I've screwed up too much already to feel confident in anything I come up with."

"I'll still need your help since you were there," Chris pointed out. "When we talk to Leon, I'll need you to make sure he's not misremembering things. He tends to look at things with guilt-tinted glasses."

"Yeah." The pair headed into the diner, ordering enough breakfast for five people to go. It was going to be a long morning, and Leon did love his breakfast. If they were lucky, it'd disarm him enough to where they could help him through this with only a little amount of self-recrimination on the blond's part.

As they were putting the food away, a thought occurred to Chris, which he voiced once they were back in the front seats.

"How do you know for certain this is a flashback, let alone to Melanie?" He strapped himself in while keeping his eyes on Helena. "Leon's had missions before you even joined. How can you be sure this is about Tall Oaks?"

"Under normal circumstances, I wouldn't be." Helena buckled her own belt then turned the key in one smooth motion. Chris winced when it felt like she jerked the car from the parking lot and spend down to Leon's place. "But I took him home not too long before you landed, and he happened to fall asleep on the way."

  
memory: driving home

It isn't surprising Leon's drifted on their way to Z-Burger. With how he looks, Helena is more shocked he hadn't fallen done that sooner. His sleep must be getting screwed if the luggage under his eyes is anything to go by.

"You take on too much, Kennedy," she grumbles.

"...sorry..."

"Wha-whoa!" Helena fights with the wheel to regain control after jerking it in shock. "Jeeze, Leon, what gives?" She feels her irritation rising in the blanketing silence. "Leon?"

"...sorry..."

The younger agent shivers and knows it's not from the temperature. "What are you sorry about?" They reach a red light, allowing Helena to glance over to the passenger seat and discover a part of her unease. "Are you... you're asleep? Damn, didn't know you talked in your sleep." She presses on the gas soon as the light turned green. "Wonder if this is because of you not sleeping right. Hmm, bet I can record something if I can get my phone." Purely for curiosity; Helena knows better than to try for blackmail material. Whatever she does, he would do three times worse. She's learned that the hard way.

"...sorry... lan..."

Curiosity drains away in a wash of trepidation; Helena prays she didn't hear him right. Please let her have misheard that. When they hit another red light, Helena takes advantage of the empty street and throws her car into park. She leans over the center console, his exhaustion pronounced as she moves closer. "Why are you sorry?" she whispers, hoping once more that she heard him wrong. "Leon? Why— _who_ are you sorry to?"

For the first time since losing her sister, Helena wants to stop and weep and the sleep-honest reply.

  
"...sorry... Melanie..." 

  
present

"You should have said something." Soon as the words left his mouth, Chris knew it was the wrong and most cruel thing to say.

"You think I don't know that! Dammit, Redfield!" she hollered. "I was going to go to Hunnigan today! I was going to have her take him off this assignment, but I didn't get the chance! You were there, you saw how fast everything went down! You better than anyone should know how sideways shit can go! So get off my ass if these damn virus-making bastards can't be fucking polite enough to let us deal with our issues before trying to create another hell on earth for a damn dollar!" The loud thwack against the steering wheel made Chris wince but the sting in her hand didn't register to Helena.

Yup, he bungled that so horribly that Chris wasn't sure a simple apology would cut it. That was all he had for now, though he would have to get with Claire to see if she had any other ideas.

"I'm sorry. That was cruel of me."

"Damn fucking right it was!" Helena stewed for a good minute before trying to rein her temper in. "I don't... yeah, we work together, and I owe Leon a lot, including my freedom. But I don't know him as well as the rest of you do. I can only go by what I do know until I can get a better idea from one of you," she admitted.

"And even we get it wrong," Chris added. "Leon is probably one of the most complex people I've ever met. I don't know if _anyone_ can say they know him inside and out."

"Got that right." Helena let the rest of her anger go. "At this point, I don't think we can really plan for anything. We just have to talk with Leon head-on now. If he doesn't remember, then... maybe he should."

It would help Leon get back a part of himself, or so Chris believed as he agreed with her. They couldn't help him until this issue was brought out in the open, even if that meant re-opening a wound so great Leon's mind had blanked it out to cope. But things were different now, and it was the best conditions they would get to help the agent remember and, hopefully, heal.

The two were both lost in their own thoughts as Helena spend on to Leon's place.

  
~~~ daybreak ~~~

His closet was empty. Leon had stepped out of it an hour ago. That dream wouldn't leave him in peace anymore and had him on edge. The agent had enough presence to call Hunnigan and tell her that he wouldn't be in today. He might have fallen a little more platonically in love with her when she didn't ask any questions and told him to take the week off.

The way he felt right then made Leon think he'd need a lot more than a week.

His gun had been taken apart in a nervous fit of stripping and cleaning. The clip laid empty on the coffee table. Initially, he couldn't stop the shaking in his hands as he worked, but the repetition of an act he'd perform dozens of times finally let some of the tension seep away. Soon Leon's hands slowed along with his thoughts. Time was indiscernible and left the agent sitting immobile with a partially stripped gun in his hands.

_'Melanie'_

It's the last thought Leon had before his mind shut down to protect him one more time, gun still resting in his grip.

~~~

_knock_  
_knock_  
_knock_

Helena frowned. So did Chris. They had reached Leon's place ten minutes ago, taking five to sort all the food before going up. Now they stood outside his door, but the blond hadn't answered yet. A quick call to Ingrid assured them Leon was there; he'd said he was home when he called Hunnigan. Chris felt somewhat relieved that Leon had asked for time off at least.

"Okay, I think I got enough to cover the damages," Helena said, breaking Chris from his thoughts. "But knowing Leon, it'll take more than me kicking it down. Back me up, Redfield. Pretty sure we can both get through it if we try hard enough."

The older Redfield almost facepalmed at the suggestion. "I'm beginning to see why you and Claire get along so well." Chris lunged for her when Helena moved to make good on her plan. "No, you psycho! I have a key, jeeze!"

"Huh. I guess that would work better." The young agent shrugged. "Look, in this line of work, you get used to kicking doors down."

"Right." He decided not to bother arguing and slid the key Leon gave him from his pocket. It took a few steps—Leon made the lock finicky on purpose—but Chris got the door open and went inside.

His heart did a freefall into his gut.

Leon sat on his couch, eyes locked forward but unfocused. One of his wing shooters held in a tight grip, the other laying disassembled on the coffee table. The gun Leon held was too close to avoid possibly fatal damage, and the trigger too easy for the blond to pull. Given what he'd just learned and seeing Leon in this way...

There were very few outcomes Chris could think of, and for the ones he could, Chris liked entirely none of them.

His weight shifted as his mind raced through all of that. The captain was quite willing to lunge for the blond if it meant keeping Leon from self-harm or worse. A split second later a critical detail registered for the captain; the gun was partially stripped and empty. The clips for both guns were placed a distance away on the table; Leon would have to reach in order to get one. Not that it would do much good as both clips were empty, with the bullets piled on a counter near the entrance to the kitchen. The gun in Leon's hand was useless.

A second point made itself known now that the initial panic was pushed aside. Despite Chris not being quiet and having seen the younger man tense at the slightest noise, Leon didn't react to the intrusion. He didn't seem to be reacting to anything, which only made the picture worse for Chris. To blank out so completely suggested shock rather than anything that might be self-inflicted.

Shock was worrying but less so than the thought of Leon being that desperate.

The crucial elements of the scene in front of Chris barely had a chance to imprint when Helena stepped around him. She sees what Chris did, but her youth and inexperience caused her to react, badly.

"LEON!"

The response from both men appeared to happen simultaneously.

Leon lurched back, jolted painfully to the present yet not quite there still. Training and instinct forced him to swallow down the scream caught in his throat. He can't see the threat but one must be there. The weight of the gun is familiar in his hand. There has to be a threat even if his vision can't confirm this. It wasn't the first time Leon's been in that kind of situation. It wouldn't be the last.

Don't fire until the threat has been assessed if safe to do so.

Fire if life is in imminent danger.

His heart was beating too fast. He would be heard if he didn't calm down. The area around him felt hot. Was it hot? The air was too thick. Too thin. Slower, he had to slow down his breathing. There is a threat.

_There is an unknown threat nearby._

His finger rested against the trigger, ready to pull in a fraction of a moment.

Don't fire... not yet...

Chris threw his right arm up and out to the side to stop Helena from moving. A harsh, grating reprimand is hissed out, completely silencing the young agent. His eyes never leave Leon's; the reaction is not unexpected but no less distressing. Chris carefully motioned for Helena to take a second look. Her fear of what's happening in front of her made the agent overlook it until Chris whispered again.

"On the table. Empty clips."

She saw this and frowned. Finally, Helena took a better look at Leon and swallowed hard at the thousand-yard stare he leveled their way. Lights were on, but Leon wasn't anywhere near home.

Well, shit.

She's about to ask Chris what they should do when the captain started moving forward. He set the bags of food on the floor, then took a slow, cautious step towards Leon.

"Leon. It's Chris. I need you to focus on me, buddy. Can you do that? Listen to me, then focus. Need your eyes on me. Can you do that for me, Leon?"

The gentle tone was one Helena had never heard before from either Redfield. The whole scene was leaving the younger agent tilting on an axis of confusion. "What are you—"

Leon twitched. He sucked in a breath that hid the pained keen in the back of his throat, the gun still shrouded in a dangerous aura despite being useless. Even stripped as it was, Helena couldn't stop the jolt of fear snapping her spine rigid as she stared down the barrel when Leon jerked it toward the sound of her voice.

Chris cut the air with his hand; the young agent heard the silent rebuke loud and clear. She snapped her mouth shut and took a step back. This wasn't a situation Helena had been trained in and felt out of her element. She made a note to herself to change that soon as she talked to Hunnigan again. For now, Helena let Chris take the lead, trusting his experience both as a soldier with a similar job and as Leon's partner.

"Leon... Leon listen to me. I need your eyes on me. Listen to my voice and look only at me." Chris took another measured step. He knew the gun was empty, but walking up on the blond in this state was one of the worst things he could do. So Chris kept his movements slow, hands up in front of Leon's field of vision as he inched closer.

The gun shifted again but wavered slightly. Leon wasn't tracking just yet, but he at least was focused on the captain's voice.

"Good, that's good. Listen to me, Leon. Eyes on me and listen. I'm not a threat. You know me, Leon. I'm Chris. I won't hurt you, so try and focus on me."

The captain noticed how Leon's eyes appeared to struggle to do just that. Whatever haze his mind was trapped in still had a strong hold but was weakening the more Chris spoke. The gun continued to tremble where Leon held it in front of himself.

"Hey, buddy. You can trust me, you know that. I need you to trust me now and lower the gun, okay? Can you do that for me, Leon?"

The world held its breath.

  


It didn't feel like he was in immediate danger. So he had time to assess the threat. Was there a threat? He was being told there wasn't, though it didn't sound like Hunnigan. Still, he knew the voice somehow. If his vision would just clear up a bit, or the rushing noise could fade out more.

_You know me, Leon_

Yes, he did. That didn't mean it was safe, though. Just that Chris might be in this mess with him. But Chris wouldn't lie to him.

_I'm not a threat_

That... of course Chris wasn't a threat. He knew that already.

_focus on me_

It's hard. He can't see—wait, yes, the fog's clearing. Everything was becoming less muddled. Could it not hurry up? This is draining.

_lower the gun_

Disoriented as he felt, this would be a solid 'no'. But it was Chris. Chris never lied. Chris wasn't a threat.

Chris wanted him to lower the gun.

  


Time resumed with a quiet exhale as Leon slowly dropped his hand, the gun falling quietly to the floor. Chris could hear Helena exhale behind him but all he was worried about now was approaching Leon to bring him out of this state.

"That's great, thank you for that. Still need you to track me, alright, Leon? I'm going to move closer, okay?" There wasn't a response either way, so Chris took it as permission and stepped forward. He also knelt down. It wouldn't help things if he were towering over the blond right now. As he watched, Chris could see Leon's eyes gaining more clarity and finally focusing on the captain.

"You're doing great, Leon. I mean that. I'm going to touch you know, but you can see my hands at all times, okay? Just relax, I got you. It's safe, Leon. It's safe and... you can wake up, now."

Those seconds between his words and finally— _finally_ —touching Leon felt like an eternity to Chris. The heaviness that dissipated when Leon blinked and actually could _see_ the brunet made it worthwhile.

"...chris?" Bewilderment strained Leon's voice. Yet he wasn't mistaken; Chris was there, hand against the younger man's cheek. Leon didn't know what to make of that, nor of Chris's expression. "...what's going on?"

"I swear I'll tell you in a minute, but first I need to ask you a couple of things."

"O-kay..."

"Good." Chris took a small breath. "Do you know your name?" Leon nodded, but Chris shook his head when the blond tried to say more. "Just yes-no for now. Do you know where you are?" Another nod. "Are you tracking right now?"

"Yes. Chris, what's going on?" Those sounded like questions for a concussion. Leon knew he wasn't concussed but he couldn't argue being confused right now. It didn't help when another voice answered, making him nearly jump right out of his skin.

"We were coming to bring you breakfast," Helena replied, her own voice weak, which confused Leon even more. "We were going to go over the reports and thought it might put you in a better mood."

Chris huffed and reminded himself that Helena was young still and probably inexperienced with a situation like this. He did give her props for not blurting out the real reason they had dropped by. Instead he added, "We didn't find out until we were already here that you'd called out from work or we wouldn't have bothered you. Still, Hunnigan told us you were home, and we were here anyway. But when you didn't answer I used my key."

Leon honestly didn't know how he missed all of that, or how Chris and Helena were suddenly in his place without him noticing. Unfortunately, the answer was given despite any concerns that it might be too soon.

"We found you on the couch with your gun in your hand." Helena choked but continued before Chris could stop her. "I thought... especially since... I panicked and made the situation worse. I'm sorry."

Fragments trickled back into Leon's conscious mind. _Oh._

It had been the dream again, only it was a lot worse and he didn't handle it well. The agent remembered cleaning his gun to try and alleviate some of his anxiety. He can only guess that he 'checked out' before Chris and Helena showed up.

_'Well, shit.'_

Then he thought about what else Helena said. Blanked out, gun in hand... _**Oh**_

Leon wanted to say he would never so much as contemplate such a thing. The only time that might come up as a choice was if he felt he was turning and there wasn't any alternative. Nobody in their line of work would risk being infected and that was their last option, but it had to be the _only_ solution left. Otherwise, they kept fighting. _He_ kept fighting. So no, Leon would never... he'd never...

But he would have felt the same if he'd walked in and saw any one of them in a similar situation. And that was without the extra context Leon knew Helena had about his current issues. Context she likely shared with Chris after last night.

_'Double shit.'_

The realisation of how much worry and fear he caused them sent a wave of nausea rushing up Leon's throat. He scrambled for the bathroom, knees hitting the floor and head in the toilet just in time as he threw up what little he had on his stomach. It's mostly bile, the blond not having eaten much of late.

Leon's not sure how much time passed before he sensed someone else in the bathroom with him. He heaved a couple of more times as a damp, cool washcloth is placed gently against the back of his neck. He wasn't sure what good that would do, but Leon felt thankful all the same.

A few more minutes passed before his stomach quit trying to turn itself inside-out. Leon closed the lid and slumped against it while reaching up to flush the mess away. The washcloth then nudged his hand; Leon took the hint and grabbed it to wipe his face clear. A glass of water was placed next to him. Leon mumbled something about offering his first-born in gratitude. He slurped enough to rinse the vile taste out his mouth, then guzzled down the rest.

"Let's get you back to the couch." Of course it was Chris with him. Not that Helena couldn't, but general consensus in the group was letting one's lover attend to the sick person if said lover was available. Had it been Claire in Leon's position, he knew Helena would have dropkicked Chris out the way to help the younger Redfield herself.

Leon realised once more his friends were way too violent.

The blond sighed heavily as he was led back to the couch. He flopped down and tilted over so he could groan against the arm. He felt Chris sit down next to him, hand warm against Leon's back. He heard Helena shuffle things around before taking a seat in a nearby recliner. Nobody seemed to want to break the ensuing silence, so both DSO agents were glad when Chris took the initiative.

"Dreams?" A single word that conveyed everything Chris wanted to know while summing up all the problems currently plaguing the younger man.

"Nightmares." Leon's voice was muffled against the couch. He exhaled before sitting up to speak clearly. "About... a week now? I don't fucking know." He rubbed his eyes, disliking everything that led to him being there in this situation. Helena decided not to point out how much Leon sounded like Jake when he was in a really bad mood.

"What are they about?" It didn't need to be asked, but Chris wanted to keep Leon focused.

"Hm." There wasn't any way out of this, and Leon wasn't sure he'd take it if there had been. He knew he absolutely could not keep going like this. And if he had to choose, Chris was always a better option than some nameless job-assigned psychiatrist that always wanted to drug him to the gills.

Hell yes he got depressed. Leon had to _shoot zombies_ for a _living_. Who wouldn't get depressed? Not exactly something Prozac could fix, for fuck's sake.

"I know it's always in Tall Oaks Cathedral," he began after a moment. "It's right after we shoot Gassy 1.0. There's a girl. She keeps... she keeps asking..." Leon choked and tried to swallow down the tightness in his throat. "She keeps asking me not to shoot her, but I... I..."

"That's not what happened!"

Helena's shout nearly startled the blond out his skin _again_. Even Chris felt shocked at the strength her voice carried. The younger agent exploded from her seat and stalked over to the couch where she stood towering over the pair. It might not have been the best circumstances for her to react that way, but Chris thought this had to be done, for Leon's sake.

"She wasn't asking you not to shoot her! She was asking you to not let her turn into a monster!"

The abruptness of Helena's declaration took Leon off guard, but the words themselves settled in and turned everything on its head.

"Wha—no. No. No no no no no, no it's... it was just a dream. Just a..." Leon almost curled in on himself until a sharp, gripping pain near his shoulders stopped him. Blue eyes focused on the woman who looked a hair's breadth from shaking the life out of him. "Hele-Helena?"

"She was already infected when we got to her!" Gentle handling tossed aside. Protocol be damned. Helena never claimed to be gentle and she hadn't so much as considered it when she heard the form Leon's dreams had taken. Then to nearly lose himself to that guilt again because she blurted out everything like a damn idiot.

Well, yelling as a solution to a problem caused by yelling was something Claire would approve of. Helena rolled with it.

"Nothing that happened at that damn church was your fault. The girl— _Melanie_ —had been exposed to so much of the gas... There wasn't anything either of us could've done. But you did what she _wanted_ you to do. And fuck it all if I just sit here and let you torture yourself over something that nobody could fix!"

Those words ripped the tattered gauze from Leon's mind.

"... oh god."

He remembered.

She was no older than thirteen. A slip of a girl with daisies painted on her jeans, and a kitten stitched on her shirt. A pink jacket laid crumpled next to her. He imagined she had tried to use it to keep from breathing in the gas. Leon wished it had worked. The memory of her body in his arms reminded him that it didn't.

Melanie. Leon had forgotten. How could he have forgotten? What kind of monster was he that her face had been erased from his mind? How could—

"I let you forget."

The blond hadn't noticed his eyes fell to his lap until they jerked up to meet Helena's. "What?"

"I... let you forget," her confession softly repeated. "We barely got out of Tall Oaks by the skin of our teeth, and we were already planning to jump on a plane to China to go after Simmons. We didn't even know about the infection being there as well." Helena let her hands fall away from Leon and stepped back to collapse into the recliner. "When I figured out what happened, I thought it'd be easier not to remind you unless we could finally get Simmons and clear your name." She held a hand up before the other agent could protest. "I wasn't thinking about myself because I felt I was guilty, even if I was played. As long as we got Simmons I was fine. I just wasn't going to let you sink with me. But that's not what happened, so we're not going to rehash that right now."

"R-right." Leon could in part appreciate why Helena might have allowed him to block what happened from himself at first but, "Why didn't you tell me once everything was over?" That made no sense to him, and a trickle of anger swirled in his thoughts. "You should have told me."

Helena didn't bother with defending herself. "You're right. I'd... never had to deal with something like that. At the very least I should have gone to Hunnigan with it just to know what to do. But you just seemed... maybe not _O_ -kay, but o- _kay_." And oddly enough, Leon knew what she meant. "I didn't want to make you _not okay_ , so I... I didn't say anything. I see now that was a mistake and don't worry, I'm going to talk to Hunnigan to see if there's any sort of training or class I can take to avoid misstepping like that again."

The growing ire banked, then fizzled completely. Leon couldn't fault her, given Helena's lack of experience. He could imagine all of them, himself included, making the same choice if they were in that position.

It didn't help the fact that he now felt a hundred times worse for having forgotten in the first place. Leon knew he should have dealt with this as soon as they were back in country and the mission filed as completed. If the incidents at the cathedral had been reported in full, Leon would have been taken off active duty and assigned 'mandatory leave' until he was deemed fit again. Now he'd have to come clean himself, which probably meant a _longer_ off-duty stint for rehabilitation.

While Leon might hate therapy on a good day, he knew when he really needed it. He needed it now. If he wanted any chance of getting a decent night's sleep, he would have to let Hunnigan get him some help.

Great for the near future, but those plans didn't do squat for the here and now. Leon had killed a young girl because of those damn viruses. That blood would never come off his hands.

_'But hers were clean.'_

Helena began sputtering out awkward apologies but Leon held up a hand to stop her. "I... don't blame you," he finally rasped out. "Like you said, you didn't know. And we can't change the past. I just have to deal with this now." He lowered his hand to look at it, his expression heartbroken. "I'm a murderer."

"No you are _not_." Leon blinked when he looked up to see Chris kneeling in front of him. Determination bled through every part of him and Leon almost cowered away from such intense focus.

"You are not a murderer," Chris repeated. "The only reason you did that is because you are a kind person who granted a dying girl her last request not to turn into a monster. Are you going to sit there and honestly tell me you would have pulled that trigger under _any_ other circumstances?

"You couldn't save Melanie. I'm sorry, I know that hurts to hear, but it's the truth and there's nothing any of us can do about it. It was out of your hands and is absolutely _not_ your fault. Melanie could have lived a long and happy life if Simmons hadn't been a repugnant asshole with a god-complex. She along with everyone else in Tall Oaks were innocent bystanders caught up in his schemes and nobody had a chance of stopping it."

Leon shook his head, though he wasn't sure why. Yes, everything Chris said was true. The moment Simmons acted, Melanie was dead. But it was still by his own hands. The agent could not erase that fact. He'd opened his mouth to say as much when he felt Chris's hands rest on his shoulders.

"The only thing you did was let her die as a human. That's a hell of a lot more than Simmons would have left her. And knowing she was human is far kinder to both you and her, than her becoming one of the nameless hordes we have to kill all the time. It hurts like hell, but this way she can be remembered.

"I can't say I remember even a fraction of the zombies I've killed. I don't know their names. I certainly don't know what they looked like before they turned. But for one girl, you know. You know because you did just what she asked and didn't let her turn. I know it's what I would want in her place."

Leon didn't blink until his eyes stung hot. When he closed them he felt the watery sensation flow and tasted salt on his lips. He was pulled into a protective embrace and, given the moment, he wilted in Chris's arms. He felt everything crash down on him, and Leon wondered if Tall Oaks hadn't been worse than Raccoon City, because it seemed to keep dragging him through the wringer far more often than any other upheaval in his life.

It certainly made him cry a lot more, which Leon positively hated.

"Dammit." His voice shook so he gave up on talking to concentrate on breathing. Leon didn't bother stopping the tears. There wasn't a point. Or better still, they were meant to be shed.

Melanie deserved them.

Time moved without his awareness. How long he stayed in Chris's arms Leon neither knew nor cared. He vaguely heard Helena mention something about coffee and privacy, heard his door open, then close. It would have been easy to stay where he was and just let the world pass him by, but Leon knew that was impossible.

It would be hell on Chris's knees if nothing else.

So he pulled away and rubbed the back of his hand across his eyes. A box of tissues was held out to him, which Leon accepted. Crying always left him a bit of a soggy mess. At least he knew his partner wouldn't tease him about it as Leon blew his nose. And if he was lucky, Leon might escape a headache this time.

"I wish I had known you were having trouble sleeping. I would have helped." Chris shifted from the floor to sit on the couch. "I hate that you had to go through this alone," he added, moving to sit next to Leon. The blond read his body language and accepted the silent invitation to rest his head on the captain's shoulder. "You should tell me. I can ask for time off if I have to."

Leon sighed, his breath warm against Chris's skin. "You know nightmares are the norm for us. I thought it was just 'same shit, different day'. It wasn't until I was losing serious sleep and it started to bother me at work that I started thinking it might be worse than that, but you were gone and I didn't want to bother you. I did plan to tell you when you got back, but you see how that went down."

Yes, he had. An astounding clusterfuck from zero to sixty which, sadly for them, was normal. Irritating, depressing, rage-inducing, but still normal. He wondered if it wasn't too early to think about retirement.

"I'm sorry." Chris almost chuckled at Leon's confused noise. "For not being there when you needed me. I'm sorry."

"You're here now." Those three words settled around both of them. They sat quietly for a time, Leon idly playing with Chris's fingers to help soothe the young man's emotions. "Do you have any leave coming up?" he asked a little time later.

"I can get some. I'm pretty much overdue." True enough; the BSAA were quite good at _forgetting_ to tell their agents when they had any upcoming leave. Chris thought he could easily take a year off with all the time he's accumulated. "Just tell me what you need."

"Hm. I need to do something." More of Leon's weight rested against Chris. The storm of emotions left him exhausted. "Kinda hoping... you'll come with me."

"Sure." And it didn't matter what or how long, Chris would be there this time. The BSAA could look after themselves for a bit. "What is it you have..." He trailed off when he noticed Leon slumped down. A quick check left him smiling. The older man shifted carefully until he could stretch out on the couch so Leon could sleep more comfortably atop him.

"Sweet dreams, Kitkat."

  
~~~ closure ~~~

The next day Chris had called headquarters to _politely_ request some of his time off. He was not surprised when the excuses started almost immediately. It's only when he expressed an interest of turning his gear in to take up pig farming that the BSAA acquiesced.

He didn't have to punch anyone this time. Claire would be proud.

Whatever Leon had planned he kept to himself, though he didn't fight when Chris would convince him to get some sleep. The days without had taken a toll. Leon would take all the sleep he could get. If that sleep happened to be on top of one BSAA captain, even better. When he was awake, along with mapping out their travel plans, he was doing some research that he 'needed to do himself'. Chris didn't push for more, knowing Leon would explain when he was ready.

It took three days to get everything set. During that time, Melanie hadn't visited Leon in his dreams. The agent didn't know if that was due to him remembering what happened, or for what he would soon do. He hoped it was both.

Schedules were made. Leon told Chris what to pack. They both checked in with Claire and Helena, then hopped on a plane. When they were seated Chris asked, "So I still don't know where we're going or what we're doing."

"West coast, need to fix a thing."

"Ah." That didn't clear up much for Chris but he left it there. He'd find out when they got to their destination. It wasn't dangerous; Leon would have told him if it were. The captain let the matter drop and relaxed for the flight, smiling when Leon fell asleep against him once they were in the air.

~~~

Hours later found the two standing at a pier. The sun was just under the horizon, casting a pink light to the clouds covering the sky.

For Leon, it was perfect.

Chris enjoyed the sight as well, though still slightly confused about them being there. He had an idea of why when Leon managed to get a florist to open early for him. He now held a small bouquet of pink carnations, blue irises, and baby's breath. The blond noticed Chris looking at the flowers and offered a wistful smile.

"Flower language." He pointed to the baby's breath. "Innocence." Next, the irises. "Hope." Leon paused as he looked at the carnations. Chris stepped closer, his concern ever-present.

"And the carnations?"

The small smile grew just a touch. Leon looked out over the ocean. "Pink carnations, 'I will never forget you'."

He took a slow breath, then with one motion, pulled the petals off most of the flowers. Leon held his hand up and waited for the wind to shift. When he felt it, his fingers opened, the petals carried on the breeze. The pair watched as they floated down to the water, then Leon let the remains of the bouquet drop quietly beneath the pier.

He stood at the edge for a moment, remembering. Imagining.

A young girl with daisies painted on her jeans and a kitten stitched on her shirt. She wore a pink jacket, like the colour in the clouds.

"Goodbye, Melanie. You are remembered."

The air felt lighter. The heaviness he'd nearly broken under faded away. Leon felt Chris's arm around his shoulder to gently pull the blond closer. He smiled and leaned against the solid warmth offered. They curled their fingers together before turning to leave the pier. Leon froze for a moment, catching Chris's attention.

"Something wrong?"

"Hm, no." He glanced behind him just once, wondering if he really heard a quiet 'thank you' on the wind. "Everything's... okay now." Leon turned back and held Chris's a little tighter as they walked away.

  


An early morning sand jogger stopped, blinked, then shook her head. Maybe her dad was right and she needed to cut back on the exercise. A minute later, she shrugged and kept going. Though the image of a girl playing in the water while holding a pink carnation and blue iris stayed with her for the rest of the morning.

♡

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading!


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